The Long Vigil
by Flame Falcon
Summary: The Jericho Reach, a place of traitors, heretics, and xenos. Beset on all sides by the Imperium and their foes, decisive battles need to be won. Among those tasked are the Deathwatch, the Chamber Militant of the Ordo Xenos. And one Kill-Team, led by Inquisitor Astrid, are among the greatest legends of those who partake in the Long Vigil. These are their exploits.
1. Introduction: Part I

**Well, here I am again. I spent some time fleshing this out and after picking up the Deathwatch role-playing game and some Black Library audio dramas, this came in to life. As always, please review. **

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The five figures made their way off the Thunderhawk, four of them massive Astartes clad in holy power armor, the fifth was a much smaller and petite woman. Each one was dressed in black, the Marines bore their chapter heraldry on one shoulder pad, the holy silver on the other with the Catechism of the Xenos inscribed on it, while raven livery made up the rest of their colors. The exception was one of the armored warriors had patches of bleached bone white covering portions of his Mark VII Power Armor. Each one of them was alert and taking in every detail of the landing bay as if it second nature to them.

Each one of them was heavily armed, two of the warriors carried bolters, one the standard mark, while the other one had a combi-bolter with a flamer under slung. The other two Astartes carried plasma weapons but their similarities ended then and there. While one carried a Plasma Cannon, the other had a plasma pistol in one hand and a chainsword in the other, with a jump pack idling in the back of him. The woman carried a bolt pistol and an ornate sword in its scabbard at her left side, though given the pristine condition, it was either new or never used in combat.

A new figure entered the flight chamber, his bodyguards at his side. He was a tall thin man, dried auburn hair thin and paled with the sands of time. He wore a heavy blue greatcoat, embroidered with chains and ribbons. A pretender claiming military command, or duly earned in the service of the God Emperor of Mankind through the service of a Guard Regiment?The man's thin face was scared in several places, along with several of his fingers being augmented with steel, lending credence to the latter theory. The Guards at his side wore heavy void suits, concealing any of their identities behind masks and armor.

The Space Marines and their female companion took in the information about their greeter in fine detail. His hand was jerking slightly as he looked at the assembled. A nervous reflex or nerve damage? Assumptions formed in their heads as the man spoke. "I am Rhodes Angelicas McNeil, commander of The Emperor's Shield. To what or whom do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

The woman spoke, her medium length brown hair bobbed as she brought her head back to him. "I am Astrid, captain." She spoke with a conflicting accent, as if considering which one to choose for the current situation. "You are to brink your ship to an immediate halt and no to dock with the orbital station above New Berlin. You are also to submit to an inspection by my squad immediately."

Rhodes looked at her entourage and then back at her. "Four Space Marines is an overkill for a custom inspection is it not? Sorry, but I have perishable cargo on board."

Astrid frowned and crossed her arms. "Then I am sure your cooperation will determine if your cargo wishes to survive."

He pointed one of his mechanical digits at her. "I know your name, madam, but I do not recognize your company. I recognize the shoulder plate of the Flesh Tearers, and this one has the symbol of the Salamanders while the other has the shield of the Storm Wardens. But this one adorns himself with black and silver. Peculiar assemblage, and I find that suspicious. It will take more then a pretty face to halt me." Astrid was beginning to lose her patiences, but she knew the man was being flirtatious with her. She had many suitors comment on her fair skin and freckles before she found her true calling. "By what right do you seek to halt a Rouge Trader on his passage."

Her lips curled into a smirk and produced a long wooden rod, bearing the ornate I of the Inquisition. "You see this? This is my 'I can do what ever the hell I want and get away with it' stick." My retinue are members of the Deathwatch, drawn from the thousands of chapters in the Imperium. The one you cannot identify was raised a warrior of the Black Dragons." She watched with some satisfaction as the man was taken back. "There is no surprise that you have not heard of their organization. Like me, they do not care for the day to day business of the Imperial servants."

The man regained some of his lost confidence and looked at the Inquisitorial representatives. "Then miss, what brings you to my ship then? I can assure you there is nothing extravagant or mundane of my day to day business. I have a hold full of fruit and vegetable from the Agri-world of Shadow. They are only in temporary retardation, not a full stasis mind you. Surely you do not wish for their shipment to spoil?"

"Your mentioning of the Imperial commander is insignificant. Even they bow to the authority of the Inquisition." He was resistant, more then out of simple inconvenience. Astrid decided not to jump to hasty conclusions as many of her fellow inquisitors would have.

But it would appear that one of her retinue had no such patience. Brother Ivan of the Black Dragons steeped forward until he was barely a meter away from the commander of the ship. The Assault sergeant raised his plasma pistol just a fraction. "You misunderstand the Inquisitor. She is not asking for your permission, she is not requesting your grace. By the authority of the Inquisition we have boarded this vessel and by the same authority you will halt your ship and comply to our demands. A true and loyal servant to the Emperor would not be so hesitant in his actions."

Rhodes stayed back and looked to Astrid as if she was going to hold him back from verbally attacking him further. "Brother Ivan is correct, you will comply to our requests and obey our demands. Do I need to raise my voice or will I have to resort to other measures?"

The commander of the ship chuckled, "Of course, I meant no harm. Now if you will follow me I will help you speed your inspection in any way I can."

Ivan lowered is pistol and smiled beneath his blackened Mark VI helmet. "Your cooperation is dually noted. When we leave, open your void shields to allow our gunship to exit." When Rhodes gave his nod, Ivan activated his vox link to the Thunderhawk. "Pilate, take off and remain at a sixty kilometers away from the ship and await further orders" There was a pause as the Black Dragon considered something. "Inform us in five minutes if she has not halted her advance."

"Affirmative." Their pilot responded. The six figures then began their journey into the ship. As they walked down the hallway, they examined the rest of the ship. It was surprisingly clean, like a chapel to the Immortal Emperor. Every bolt, fitting, and metal was polished to a gleam. The ship was nothing more then a cargo hold with an engine, crew quarters and gun turrets. The Kill-Team took in all of the information, looking for places of ambush, escape, and shortcuts.

They reached one of the primary holds, filled with many massive containers, each five meters long and twice as high. Heavily robed figures worked above them in the cranes and dim light. Even with their helmets and enhanced vision, the warriors of the Deathwatch could not make out their features. Each one had the same manner of protection of their faces, but they were not doing any work that would warrant such. Rhodes gestured to the containers. "Aha, the fruits of my labor, if you would."

"How many?" Astrid asked.

"Seven hundred in total. Most in this hold and the other hundred in secondary holds across the length of my ship. Please, forgive me Inquisitor, but I do not understand the purpose of this inspection. What warrants the Inquisition to inspect my ship?"

A new voice, Brother Cain of the Flesh Tearers spoke up. His voice was grated, his vocal cords replaced after combat with an Ork warboss. "You visited Omega Io some time ago." It was not a question.

The Rouge Trader paused for a moment and thought. "Why... yes. But that was nearly three years ago. A dull, dull moon."

The Flesh Tearer growled. "Then I am sure you would love to know that it is a lot duller now. The Inquisition executed Exterminatus of Omega Io. Irreversible Xeno population and contamination. Orbital bombardment turned it into a lifeless rock." The Flesh Tearer spoke as if he had witnessed such a deed. In fact, they all had.

Extermanatus was both a proud thing to watch, but it also had a heavy heart to view it. It meant one planet was destroyed, more often then not never to be used again. The Orbital Strike of this one eliminated the entirety of the atmosphere, exposing the planet to the hard vacuum of space. Those who had not died in the bombardments froze to death in a matter of minutes. The planet would eventually be colonized by artificial hubs to mine the planet's resources, but four billion souls were sent to the Emperor on the Golden Throne of Terra for their judgment.

The commander of the ship swallowed hard. It was not uncommon when was reminded of the Inquisition's final sanction. But there was more then fear on his face, there was a hint of genuine concern. "You think something has come aboard here? Surely we would have found it in the past... three years?"

Astrid spoke. "Then that is the purpose of the inspection, weather you are comfortable with it or not."

"Very well, waste your time if you must. If you need me, contact one of my crew." He turned around and left with some undue haste it appeared. Astrid held Ivan's shoulder pad, holding him back from following the man. He reluctantly stopped and they examined the area around them.

After a while, Astrid spoke again. "You know the alien we seek. Genestealers. If one of them slipped on board then any number of the crew is contaminated. Stay vigilant." The Marines needed no more words when the words were said. Genestealers, of all Xenos in the Imperium, they were perhaps the most foul. Impregnation their genes in the human hosts and giving their mutation off to the next generation. In four generations, a pure-strain is born and the cycle begins anew. "Brother Ha'sen, what do your senses tell you?"

Astrid had served with the Inquisition since the age of eighteen, after she had finished her basic training on Cadia. While others would have gone to the Imperial Guard regiments, she was selected by the Emperor's most holy Inquisition to carry out His will. Now in her twenty second year of life, she spent much of her time learning each of the strengths and weaknesses of her kill team. She had learned form experience not to underestimate the eye of a Devastator, especially Ha'sen.

The Salamander looked around and came close to one of the containers. Thumbing through much of the information he shrugged. "I may not be one of the sacred Tech-preists of Mars, but this container was set into its retardation three hundred and seven days ago. Said state is to collapse in four hours."

Astrid groaned momentary to herself. "Yes, those are the facts but what do they mean?"

"Imperial command likes their fruit _really_ fresh?" Brand, Apothecary of the Storm Wardens and the comic of the group, jibed. Astrid made a weird nasal noise as if trying to suppress a laugh, while Ha'sen and Ivan chuckled. Cain refrained from laughing, the constant jokes and puns Brand said from time to time was beginning to become more of an annoyance than anything else.

"You think we waste our time here? Perhaps you all wish for New Berlin to share the same fate as Omega Io." Cain growled at them and the laughing ceased, and the scion of Sanguineous looked around. "But I am forced to admit, our Inquisitorial Masters have drawn us away from more obvious threats. I for one would rather be out against the recent Tau expansion, or on the front lines against the Hive Fleet."

Astrid shook her head. "It is never a waste of time securing the realms of the Emperor. Especial here. Follow me and watch closely." She strode down the hallway and pointed out the data-crystals that were attached to each of the pods. "Look, each one of these show decreasing time of storage. Look, activated one hundred and four Terran days ago. And this one is three hundred more. Even with a warp inclement Navigator, a ship this size could make the trip from Shadow to New Berlin in less then ninety days. The oldest is more then a year old!"

Cain growled underneath his helm. "The master of this ship has lied to us! We will find him and confront him with our examinations. By the Emperor and the Angel of Blood, he will tell us the truth or he will suffer at the hands of the Inquisition for impeding our duties!"

Brand shrugged. "You carry out judgment too swiftly Cain. While I do not doubt that Rhodes is hiding something from us... he is a Rouge Trader after all. And they are just as famous for their silver tongues as they are their wealth though the Imperium."

Ha'sen looked back to Astrid. "While it may be a crime to smuggle contraband or sell overly ripe fruit, it is not a concern for the Deathwatch. But there is something else here. Astrid, what do you believe?"

She growled to herself, thinking hard. "The ship went to Omega Io before the Genestealers' cult came to power. I believe if we will check the records of the ship we will find that Rhodes made several trips to Omega Io over the years. Each time he would take aboard a new strain of Genestealers, and soon he would have more then enough to infect a hive."

"Vulkan's anvil... At least seven hundred of the beasts." Ha'sen murmured to himself.

The vox crackled and the voice of Pilate came into their ears. "Milady, the ship has not arrested her velocity as per your instruction. Cain readied his bolter which drew the attention of the crew. Ivan placed his hand on his brother's right pauldron. His eagerness for battle was laudable in most cases. But in their current situation

"Then out duty is clear. We have forty minutes until the ship reaches docks with the orbital platform. From there Rhodes will surely unleash them. Hundreds of thousands of lives will be brought to an end. We need to begin the purge now. Ha'sen, your plasma cannon can take out a container with every shot or there about."

Ha'sen looked to his heavy weapon and then back to the huge flask on his back. "I have perhaps sixteen shots, what about the other six hundred and eighty four?"

Astrid shook her head. "And I am sure that Rhodes and the crew would not stand by idly as we complete our work. Cain, open battle is not always the answer." Cain was about to object but Alyssa held her finger up to him. "We will not let this pass by either. We will conclude our inspection and once we are a safe distance away we will order the station to open fire on the ship. The ship and the despicable crew will be obliterated by the guns." The announcement silenced any debate and she walked over to Ha'sen and gave his weapon a gentle pat. "Sometimes even a Plasma Cannon is not a big enough weapon."

Ha'sen shrugged. "I never had any complaints about it." She smiled and the kill team followed behind her. They appeared to be calm, but inside they were on edge. Seven hundred Genestealers shared the ship with them in addition to the hostile crew, they had to get off as soon as possible. If the Genestealers awoke with even a third of their number, they would not last long with their current armaments. Their primary duty was to destroy the ship by any means necessary, everything was secondary, even their own lives. But she would not spend their lives fruitlessly. She had also became aware that there were more then double the crew when they first arrived, and they had given up all work they were doing before hand. They were now utterly focused on the tasks of the kill team.

"Pilate, bring the gunship in for landing." She said into her vox. "We will be leaving soon." As soon as the words left her mouth the door they were going to leave through slammed shut, the sound of locks closing. Their hearts went cold for a moment as they realized the situation. The ship's master had no intention of them leaving.

Compelled by the psychic command of their alien masters, the ship's crew fired on the Kill-Team as one. Las shots and shotgun shells ricocheted from their armor as the Marines and Astrid broke apart to find cover. The rouse revealed, the five felt some relief as they could engage in righteous battle once more. Cain was the first to engage , brining his combi-bolter to bear. He fired off single bolts into the swaths of enemies. The mass reactive shells blew their targets into bloody chunks and it was then revealed why they wore such clothing.

They had domed craniums, large bulbous yellow eyes and purplish skin. Many concealed extra arms or clawed tipped digits under their robes. Astrid raised her own pistol and swapped magazines. "Unarmored targets, use the metal storm rounds you were given." Cain nodded and switched to his secondary magazine on his combi-bolter. The metal storm ammunition was not like a standard bolt round, which detonated inside the target, but exploded a few meters from the target to shower them with hot fragmentation. She picked her shots, each round from her pistol shredding the flesh and robes of the infected. The bodies of the dead and dying slumped to the ground as bleeding ribbons.

"Let free the retribution of the Emperor!" Cain yelled as he fired off his bolter. "Suffer not the alien to live! Purge the lost and the damned! We will avenge the dead of Omega Io!" Despite his blood lust, it was quite clear that Cain was a skilled combatant, fighting with a cold calculated rage built up against the enemies of Humanity.

"Ivan, get ready to engage in single combat. Heavy weapons coming from the catwalks above." The Black Dragon nodded as he slammed his pistol back into his holster and drew his two chainswords. He then allowed his bone blades, the trade mark of his chapter, come free from his armor. "Brand, provide covering fire for the advance. And Ha'sen, what the hell are you doing?" Astrid ordered as she moved to another container cover. The Salamander was performing some rites to appease the machine spirit of the plasma cannon. He looked back to her and grunted.

"Powering up. You don't want to rush this Inquisitor, a fail safe breech is exactly the last thing we need at the moment." Astrid nodded and heard a noise come from behind her. She spun around with her bolt pistol and saw the face of Rhodes on the data-crystal behind her.

"I do not think that you are a fool, Inquisitor Astrid. So return the same respect. The moment you held my vessel, I knew my precious cargo was engendered. Did you think I would blindly pass into the range of the guns from the station? Your arrival came with some concern I must be honest. But it matters not. It matters not, the Fellowship of the Reach will not be so easily thwarted. We have laid claim to New Berlin, and we will rule there as we have ruled Omega Io. You speak of revenge? What are four billions deaths to you? My kin... my comrades, and the world that worshiped they as their saviors cry out for justice!"

Astrid's blood froze in her veins as she realized that Rhodes was no pawn of mind control, but a willing servant of the abominations. She did not know, did not _want_ to know what kind of unholy bargains a man like him would make for such allies. To turn against your own blood and damn worlds to extinction. Such things were for later concern. She leaned her face in to the crystal and produced a fist. "You have damned yourself, Rhodes. When these hands send you off to the Emperor himself, he will spit on your soul and the boast you have will only waste your air when you are judged screaming." She slammed it into the face, shattering the crystal into a thousand pieces.

A more immediate concern was heavy weapons being aimed by three armed hybrids. She fired but her metal storm rounds cluttered uselessly against the hull of the crane. "Ha'sen, now!"

Ha'sen strode forward and primmed his cannon to overcharge, it would fire three shots of ammo in one, but it would bring the crane down. "Into the Fires of Battle, unto the Anvil of War!" He fired off the shot, which slammed into the crane. It exploded and portions of the crane turned into melted slag killing many who were using the piece of equipment for cover. It soon toppled over due to the the lack of structural integrity, pitching dozens more down into their deaths.

Ha'sen withdrew back to cover to allow his weapon to cool and Ivan charged forward, his jump pack active. "FIRE AND BONE, BROTHERS!" The jump pack sprang forward, carrying the vanguard with wings of fire. He landed on the catwalk and slashed out with his chainswords, gutting the enemy where they stood. Bolter rounds sang past him with clean precision and las beams flickered harmlessly off his armor. A lucky bullet hit his helmet, chipping some of the paint away. He spun around and brought his left chainsword down on the skull, exposing grey matter and bone. He slammed his boot into the next foe, and drove his adamantium bone blades into the chest of the next. The half human hybrid lashed out with claw tipped hands in vein but ultimately expired in the hands of the battle brother. He spired and slammed one of his chainswords back into it's sheath and produced his plasma pistol as a handful of hybrids raised their lasguns.

A storm of bolter fire from beneath turned them to raged corpses. He saw Brand with his bolt pistol beneath him and the Black Dragon smirked. He looked around and fired at the stragglers he could find. The rest of the kill team came up the stairs to him. The crew that was present seemed to have been killed off and they spent no time wasted in refilling their spent magazines. "It appears are foes have fled for the moment." Brand said as he slammed a fresh bolt magazine home.

Ivan snarled, "The Emperor has given us victory." No sooner had the words been spilled, the data-crystals on all of the chambers went red and they began to activate.

"Thoughts of victory seem to be premature." Ha'sen said as the tops of the chambers began to open, sprouting a fog of cryo. "How long until these beasts can be battle ready?"

Astrid shook her head. "Little to no time at all. I served on an Ice planet and they uncovered a Warrior in permafrost. It attacked them with in half a minute of being cut free."

Cain growled. "And these are not even full stasis. Attack is immanent, brothers."

Ha'sen shrugged and fired his cannon into one of the pods beginning to open, incinerating it on impact. "One down."

_Six hundred and ninety-nine to go._ Astrid though in her head.


	2. Introduction: Part II

**Well, this chapter came faster then expected. I hope you enjoy this one. It is the end of this adventure and will son begin the next. Review and enjoy!**

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Cain readied his bolter, and looked as the pure strains began to slither out of the abominable containers. Dark violet skin, four clawed arms, and a forked tongue. Truly a blight to be expunged from the galaxy. He had a far more personal reason with these beasts then perhaps any other of the brothers that stood at his side. Thirty years ago, he and his squad partook in the cleansing of a derelict full of the beasts. Even with their Tactical Dreadnought Armor, better known as Terminator armor, only he came out of the ship in one piece. Seven others were killed and the two remaining were living but were heavily augmented. Since then, he purged them with all the fury and vengeance as if he was one of the Death Company. "Astrid, see if you can get this bloody door open, the rest of you, conserve your fire for the pure strains." The kill team fell into a Bolter drill tactical formation, each one of them with in each other with their range weapons to bear.

Astrid got dear the door and produced a Krak grenade breaching charge with a maglock on it. The grenade was an anti armor explosive, sacrificing the tactical offensive of fragmentation for the bang that could rupture tank armor. She slammed it to the door and pulled the pin.

She moved a safe distance away from the explosion and redirected her attention to the more imminent threat of Genestealers. The grenade was delayed explosive, giving the illusion of being a dud and perhaps causing more damage. She ignored that thought and produced her bolt pistol again, taking aim at the pure strains that were crawling out of the containment cells. The closest one turned its bulbous head towards the direction of the kill team, eyes gleaming in the heat lamps. A salvo of bolter fire tore the creature into several bloody chunks. Metal storm rounds were not as effective as they were on the crew members, thanks in no small part due to the Genestealers natural armor, but normal bolts worked just fine for the time being.

"We do the will of the Emperor, brothers." Ivan spoke as he fired his plasma pistol at a nearby Genestealer. The superheated hydrogen blasted the cranium and natural armor to a molten slurry and it slumped to the ground. "Even now, He and the Primarchs watch our deeds. By the manner of our deaths will we be judged worthy. Let us be washed into their holy embrace with the blood of the foul Xenos!" The kill team growled in affirmation and more Genestealers came out of their holding cells. Most of them that were in range were slaughtered by the combined gunfire of the kill team. Yet others avoided it entirely and slipped into the shadows.

"Why do they not attack?" Ha'sen asked aloud as he refueled his plasma canister. "I believed these beast fearless."

Cain snarled and opened fire with his bolter, cutting down two in one fell swoop. "They are not mindless killers, Ha'sen. They know that if they come to us in small numbers is to be easily cut down by our gunfire. So they wait. Wait for the perfect moment to strike in a combined assault knowing that some may die but the majority will reach us and cause us ill."

Ivan shrugged for a moment, allowing his plasma pistol to cool. "One would not expect such self-sacrifice from creatures such as this."

Astrid shook her head. "Do not mistake murderous instinct for honorable intent, Ivan. They live and die for the brood. Does the first warrior of a wasp nest lay down his life knowing that he will save the hive as a whole, or is he unaware of the sacrifice he is making, simply driven to such acts? Expended unthinkingly for the survival of the queen and the rest of its kind." Ivan saw her point and continued firing. "You shouldn't try to compare the alien to the will of our race. They are a blight to be expunged from the galaxy, and we have come to be their judge, jury and executioner. Praise be given to the God Emperor of Mankind for giving us this purpose."

"You may talk and philosophize all you want, my doom cast warriors. I, however, would want to fight a little longer." When Brand said those words, the breaching charge exploded. The door was sent flying and metal fragments tore through them, chipping paint and armor. Astrid looked back and saw more crew members, lasguns ready for the kill. A pity, she thought. She holstered her pistol and cracked her knuckles.

"Ha'sen and Cain: stay here and hold of the brood for as long as we can clear the way. Our weapons are better suited for the task ahead." Words said, she took off into a sprint, her armored figure belied the speed she moved with. Using the years of training she had she ran through the door and leap up into the air, dodging the hail of las fire. Brand was not far behind her, as was Ivan. The latter called forth his bone blades once again and the Storm Warden unsheathed his claymore.

Astrid landed amongst them, and instantly her body set to work. She delivered a sharp kick to the head of the closest hybrid, decapitating it from the inside. A knife came out and she used her hands to catch the blade and direct it back at the wielder. Behind her she heard the battle cry of the two warriors behind her. She had preferred to use her fists and body as a weapon, it gave her a sense of being the literal embodiment of the Emperor's divine justice.

She saw one with three arms try to attack her but she crushed his windpipe, causing him to drown in his own fluids. Another came at her with the butt of a lasgun, such a clumsy weapon to dodge. She took control of the las weapon and fired it point bland right into the eye socket. The fight continued for her and she went to her place where her mind and body were becoming one with the fight. When she was younger, combat was a rush... a thrill. Now, more and more it was becoming more simpler as well as purer. Still, hand to hand combat gave her the adrenaline rush that only battle could give to her.

Eventually they killed the crew and the other two came up behind them. "So far seventy have escaped, and more are opening by the minute. We need to find a place one way in and out." Cain was right. They needed a place to hold until they could formulate a tactical withdrawal.

"Crew quarters?" Ivan asked as he fired off a ball of plasma as another crew member came circling around the corner.

"Why leave one trap, only to fall into the next? We need to keep moving, secure lines of retreat." Brand stated as he cleaned off his claymore of the red blood. Astrid looked back to Ha'sen who was still holding the door, and she saw the Genestealers funneling through the hole in the door.

"A delay to the inevitable Brand, nothing more!" She thought for a moment, coming to her conclusion. "The main bridge, ideal for defense. I will see Rhodes slain for what he has done before I fall to these alien beasts." Words said, the kill team took off to the main bridge. Ha'sen stayed a in the back, occasionally firing his plasma cannon at the approaching Genestealers who were now numbering in the hundreds.

Clearing their way was long and brutal. There were so many nooks and crannies to be hiding in that each room was cleared before they could advance, losing valuable time but made it efficient to advance. Ha'sen held the walk way they were currently on, vaporizing any of the pure strains that were coming their way. The others resorting to their melee to wade through the inhuman filth.

It was in this sort of combat that their differences. Astrid fought with prowess taught to her by her teachers of the Inquisition. She was a protégé of hand to hand combat. Cain, on the other hand, as well as Ivan, were like a battering ram. Using their blade and combat knives where they could and their elbows where it couldn't. Fat, round heads and rib cages were shattered to the brute force. Then Brand fought with the combination of the two, finesse with his blade, but his application was brutally executed. Slashes with one hand and brutal, bone snapping fists from his free hand at occasions showed how different applications of the same form of combat could be.

Blood, both human and alien alike, fountained from their foes wounds, showering the kill team with it, desecrating their sacred armor with its filth. Ha'sen barked back to them, "They are pulling back, they don't appear to be so tough now. They are going back towards the hold!"

Ivan looked back as he impaled two mutants with one of his bone blades. "There are other ways around this ship, used by the crew. The Genestealers will be back and we do not know from where." As he spoke the crew members began to break off. Those retreating were easily cut down by the combind fire of Cain and Brand.

"Inquisitor," It was Pilate's voice that broke he vox communication silence. "The Emperor's Shield has changed her course. She is entering low orbit over New Berlin."

"Our foes seem to have fled for the moment it seems." Brand said as he changed bolter magazines, swapping an empty bolter clip in the place of a fresh one.

"Some new ploy by Rhodes, I am sure of it. Direct confrontation has failed them and they try to formulate a new plan of attack just like we are about to." Ha'sen spoke ans he rejoined the group.

"Good." Brand said, deadpan almost. "I was almost worried we might have won."

_Warning! Atmosphere entry in twenty minutes. All crew prepare from emergency atmosphere entry. All crew attend to stations. _The sound a servitor filled the room bring news on why the course was altered.

"Damn Rhodes and his alien masters!" Astrid swore aloud. "He is going to crash land the ship into New Berlin."

Ivan spoke. "Then we have succeeded, no? Even if the ship survives reentry into the orbit, it is not made for planet fall. Everything abroad the ship will parish."

"Including us, should we remain." Cain shot back.

"We cannot be certain of that." Astrid said and everyone drew their attention to her. "What if the ship survives and hits the ground? Thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, could be killed. We cannot allow a single Genestealer to escape to the ground of New Berlin."

Ha'sen checked his weapon supply, realizing that he had maybe twenty shots left over before his back pack canister was out of fuel. "And we cannot kill all of them here, with the weapons we have at hand."

"It pains me to say, but we must evacuate and warn the imperial commanders of the threat. We will then continue our hunt on the ground. " Ivan raised his hand to his helmet and activated his vox link. "Pilate, bring the gunship into landing."

"Ignore that, Pilate." Ha'sen said back to the Thunderhawk. He looked to the Black Dragon and took off his helmet and placed it at his side. It was unsettling to see a Salamander with out his helmet on. Coal black skin and piercing red eyes, it encompassed everything in their wake. "Your desire to live, Ivan, clouds your judgment. Understandable but My chapter teaches me to ignore such considerations."

The Black Dragon eased closer to his brother of Vulkan and looked him square in the eye. Ha'sen didn't even flinch a bit. "You call me a coward!?"

"I do not question your bravery in combat, brother. Just your judgment. You would sacrifice your life for any of us but you believe the mission is over. You may not be wrong, but we need to exhaust every other option before we accept mission failure."

Cain snarled, "I would rather die then suffer a defeat at the hands of aliens such as these."

Brand shrugged, "I would rather live to secure another victory."

Pilate's voice cam on the speaker again. "Inquisitor, we are to close to the atmosphere to attempt to dock. I can do so once we have passed the reentry threshold. Orders?"

"Hold station. Prepare to dock when it is possible." She answered the Marine.

"Confirmed." He replied

"So, we take the flight bay?" Brand asked.

"No."Astrid spoke, "Ha'sen is right. The mission is not over yet. If we can secure the bridge, we may be able to ensure that this damned ship burns up on reentry. We will parish, but we will take more then six hundred of the fiends with us. If we cannot, then we will extract." She turned around from the rest of the kill squad and began her journey to the bridge, her bolt pistol in hand. She did not look back, and Ha'sen as well as Cain follow her. Brand and Ivan looked to each other and then to their departing battle brothers.

_Warning! Atmosphere entry in seventeen minutes. All crew prepare for emergency atmosphere entry. All crew attend to stations._

"By Vulkan's mighty hammer, these fanatics will be the death of me." Ivan said to Brand and looked to the other Brand who unsheathed his claymore.

"If we survive this battle, I am going to request and easier duty... taking on an Ork warboss in unarmed combat seems likely." Brand said and Ivan let forth a long and loud laugh. They picked up the pace to catch up with the rest of their squad.

* * *

Rhodes was no fool, and perhaps guessing the intent of the kill squad, he had his men take up positions near the bridge. They were his honor guard, armed with a variety of weapons. The bridge was accessed by two hall ways, each a hundred meters in length. There seemed to be no end to the numbers, and many were wondering if they had already killed some of them crew already. But as Ivan put. "Rouge Traders often convert spare storage space into living quarters. Thus, it can give the illusion of having less space until it is too late to realize how wrong you were."

What was more concern however then the numbers the Kill squad had to deal with was the noted population of heavier weapons. The distinct barrel of a plasma gun and a melta-gun not far from their position, hiding under the robe of one man."How did the men get these weapons? Many of them have the capability of rupturing power armor." As if to illustrate Cain's point, a ball of plasma seethed forward and slammed into a nearby bulk head, melting part of it.

Astrid responded as she turned the corner to fire her bolt pistol rounds. "He is a Rouge trader, and as such, his wealth along with his reputation gives him access to some of the most lethal weapons of the Imperium. He has been wise to save such weapons for the last defense."

"Yet he values them less then the pure strains." Ha'sen responded as he returned a ball of plasma to who ever shot it. "Or at least the brood does. I have not seen a single Genestealer since we ascended."

Cain turned back to the Salamander and nodded. "Only the pure strains can breed, and the more Rhodes has, the more he can infect. He hopes to deposit them on New Berlin in one piece. Why waste the lives of his most precious cargo when he still has plenty of minions to throw against us."

_Warning! Atmosphere entry in seven minutes. All crew prepare for emergency atmosphere entry. All crew attend to stations._

"We are running out of time, and I do not think a frontal assault will serve us well." To drive the point home, another plasma blast almost caught Astrid on the side but she was quick enough to get out of the way.

"We won't advance more then twenty meters into the teeth of that." Brand responded. "Perhaps now we can seize the flight bay and evacuate. We can hold for ten minutes and war the commanders once we have cleared."  
"We do not accept mission failure unless there is no other option." Ha'sen spun towards the wall and fired one plasma ball into the wall and created a near circular hole in the wall. "We will carve our own way into the teeth of this. Cain, Astrid, Brand, you first. Ivan, with me." As one the kill team rushed forward into a mess hall which led to the bridge. Cain fired into the crowd of assembled hybrids, who were using the long tables for cover. Brand slammed his empty pistol back into his holster and gestured for Ha'sen to come in, Astrid not far behind. Ivan covered their entrance by lobbing three fragmentation grenades through the hallways.

_Warning! Atmosphere entry in three minutes. All crew prepare for emergency atmosphere entry. All crew attend to stations._

Once they cleared the mess hall, Ha'sen fired again and reviled a mass of snarling hybrids. The four melee combatants charged in, slaughtering their foes with blade and bolter fire. The claw tipped hands of their enemies left welts in their armor and scratches on their livery. Room by room, the kill squad waded through the hybrid horde. Until Astrid's existence was nothing more then punches, bolter fire, fanged mouths and claws. Every inch of her body was now devoted to the kill.

Her kill squad kept up with her, slaughtering so many of the crew in an attempt to reach the bridge before atmospheric entry. She felt herself slow down as she realized that there were no more foes to slay. Their wake was a scene of carnage. Dozens of corpses littered the ornate state room, their blood desecrating the satin white of the room. She sent Ivan, bone blades coated in red to scout the entry way to the bridge. "All clear. I believe that is the last of the crew."

"Ha'sen, get us to the bridge." Even as she spoke the words, she felt a change in the ship. The rumbling sound in the background came into the limelight and she knew what happened. Soon it was clear that the whole ship had entered the atmosphere of New Berlin. _Warning, atmosphere entry. All crew attend to stations. Emergency protocols are in effect_.

The sound of superheated hydrogen rang through the corridor as the armored bridge door melted. Astrid stepped into the bridge. It was a semi-circular bridge, filled with monitors and half machine servitors, connected to their station by mechanical coils and implants, pierced by nutritional feeding tubes for the lowly servitor. The semi-human automatons attended to their duties completely oblivious to what was happening around them. An ocular screen dominated, which currently flared with atmospheric entry. She took it all in at a glance and focused on the two figures standing before her.

Rhodes stood calmly before her, hands behind his back and a satisfied smug expression on his face. Next to him, towering over them was the brood lord. It was much smaller then others she had come across, but she looked into the swirling yellow eyes. She was soon dimly aware that the rest of her kill team was coming in behind her. She knew that the thoughts of sisterhood and family were not her own. She remembered her youth on Cadia, when she learned of her duty as the front line defender against the Eye of Terror. She remembered those oaths she swore on the books to become one with the Inquisition, the duties and burdens that came along with that. She focused on those and drove the inhuman presence from her mind.

The sound of a roaring plasma cannon filled both of her ears as she saw the brood lord's upper body disintegrated under the heat of the blast. She turned back to see Ha'sen mag-locking the cannon to his chest and drawing his combat knife and bolt pistol. "No more power. Inquisitor, what are you waiting for? Kill the bastard!"

Rhodes expression turned from smug to one of horror as he saw Astrid approach him and the other members of the kill team had their weapons trained on him. He looked back and saw the light give way to clear white clouds. He soon became smug once again. "I die with out regret! You are too late bitch. You have doomed your self and the Fellowship will rule again. Laugh it up, Inquisitor, I want to hear you laugh!" _Warning! Ground Impact imminent. All crew evacuate. Ship loss protocols are in effect._

"Ha, ha, ha." Astrid said slowly and she delivered and fist under his nose. The blow would have broken it, but the angle it was done with sent the nose bone into the brain he fell to the ground in pain and she continued to bring her boot down on his head until there was nothing left of it.

_Warning! Ground impact imminent. All-_ The servitor that was saying the message slumped over as a plasma shot obliterated it;s head. Ivan lowered his pistol. "That was getting _really_ annoying." Ha'sen wasted no time and went of to the consuls to analyzed the data and shook his head.

"We are too far into the gravity well to pull out." He sighed with what appeared to be defeat. Before he heard Cain reading his bolter.

"Brothers, we have some guests." The sound of the approaching Genestealers became more obvious and the Kill Team turned their weapons against them. Bolter rounds rang through the air and soon the fire they laid down was killing dozens every minute. "They seem eager to throw themselves on out guns Inquisitor. I thought you said they were not mindless killers."

Astrid looked back from the panels as she set in the final code. She would redirect the ship into the ocean. A Genestealer could survive a lot, but not the pressure of a thousand meters of water. "Desperation." She said as she fired the last rounds of her bolt pistol into the approaching monsters. "They sense they are doomed and them may have the hope that there are still enough crew to divert this so that some could survive. That is one reason."

Brand slashed three monsters away with his sword. "If not, what other reason?"

"Spit. Pure vengeful spite. My master once said that these alien horrors should be hated because they couldn't return the feeling. I have looked into the eyes and I have seen hatred beyond the lust to kill. They feed upon us and in doing so they become more like us. The gift of hatred may be the greatest thing they take from us."

There was a brief respite as the aliens gathered their forces. They may have just reached the same conclusion the kill team did moments before. They were out of ammunition. Cain looked to the ocean. "Not the way I wished to die. But it is a fitting death none of the less. At least we will not be going to our grave alone."

A blast on the left side of the bridge and servitors were sent in bloody chunks away from them and soon the pale black of their Thunderhawk came into view. "It didn't sound that you could reach the launch bay. I thought you would like to leave this ship of the damned." Pilate's cool and calm voice entered their vox channel.

"Have you ever been kissed by another Space Marine, Pilate?"

"Not unless you close your eyes Ha'sen. And NOT on the lips!" The pilot responded. The kill team broke off into a run, Ha'sen jumping the three meter gap as if it was nothing. Cain and Brand soon followed and Astrid drew her sword. She brought it down on the head of a dead Genestealer taking the head and raised it in tribute to the kill team. Ivan grabbed her by the waist and ran forward, leaping head first into the open door of the Thunderhawk, just barley a kilometer above the ground.

Astrid soon stood on the open hatch and watched as the ship slammed into the ocean. The force of the impact crumpled the hull of the ship like foil and it soon began to sink, clouds of steam coming up from the wreck as the engine met the water.

She looked at the head of the Genestealer in her hands. She would cut the flesh from the bone and chitin, gild it and offer it to the chapel on her return to the watch fortress. It was a trophy, taken from a slain foe, just as humans have done for tens of thousands of generations.

More then that, it was a reminder. For Omega Io... for New Berlin... for the Emperor.


	3. Traitor's Dawn: Introduction

**Well, here we go. Another part of the Saga of the Deathwatch. As always, please remember to read and review. It means a lot. **

* * *

The cleansing portion of quarantine was Astrid's least favorite part of the end of every mission. Stripped down and having cold, dead minded servitors cleans every inch of her body while the Watch Fortresses' serfs would cleans her armor of the blood and her weapons until they would be required to make sorrow to the enemies of the Emperor. But... why did she needed to be stripped naked even though her armor took the blood and filth?

She rolled her eyes as she recalled the debriefing while the mission. The high Inquisitors questioned her on every minute detail of the execution of the purge, every round expended, what tactics she used and the like. The genestealers were not a new threat to them, but when the number of seven hundred left her voice, it was a massive commotion. The traditional methods were to be taken: the Imperial Navy took their vengeance on the rouge trader and brought his ship down for justice. No specifics were to be given but Astrid knew that it was soon to be executed as they saw fit.

She often wished that her kill-team and others would receive the credit that they have duly earned more then twelve times over. She often came to blows with other Inquisitors over their heavy handedness and openly basked in the fame they were given, shadowing the servants who did the deeds their masters were credited with. Clearly there was plenty of differences in the Inquisition, with politics excluded even.

Even with all of the methods she used, she could not fully avoid the politics of the Inquisition. There were two primary factions through the Inquisition, the Radicalism and the Puritanism. If a bolt pistol had to be placed to her head, she would be forced to admit that she was a more moderate radical. She knew that sometimes fire would have to fight fire from time to time. It had made her a few enemies and just as many friends in the Inquisition. She had not yet been betrayed by the other faction, but she knew it was only a matter of time till it would happen.

The servitors were finishing up and one held out a black robe for her which she tied off against her athletic frame. She was relived when she saw the green light shined and she left the cleansing cell. Watch Fortress Erioch was truly a marvel to behold, a massive space fortresses. It was here that many of the orders were given and a hub point for the Jericho Reach crusade. Here, the black armored Marines of Deathwatch trained for their missions, examined captured Xenos so more could be learned about their bodies. But she had someone to visit.

She was handed the skinned head of the Genestealer she slaughtered. The ride on the Thunderhawk gave her plenty of time to skin the damned thing. She was going to present it to the Chaplain of the Fortresses. She knew that the kill team could take care of themselves for the time being. Undoubtedly the Marines would keep themselves occupied through training or rest. She made her way through the hallways and passages that she knew by heart.

For such a big place, Erioch was sparely populated. While there were thousands of inquisitors, serfs, and other human allies as well as a few hundred Battle brothers of the Aduptus Astartes, for the most part the palace was nearly empty. Most of the occupants were the bones of the fallen Xenos slain, standing as a testament to the acts of the Deathwatch. Even though she was still an infant by many standards, she could remember when some of the skeletons were first added to the halls. Even her kill team added the skeleton of a massive Squig, which was very dominate over the room.

She walked barefooted through the cold stone walls, keeping her ever alert. She made her way through the halls and was waiting to see if she would be greeted by any of her fellow inquisitors or any of the Deathwatch. She met none, either it was a training portion or in formers case, they were too absorbed in their studies or other trivial messages to their servitors. She didn't care though, she was never one to talk with others of her kind if she could avoid it. She was a had other pressing matters.

She made her way to the primary chapel of the Watch Fortress and walked through the mighty open doors of the Shrine of Saint Aret. It was a chapel, devoted to an Imperial Saint long forgotten, as the chapel was made three thousand years before the Saint was canonized. As she walked in, she saw that there were several battle brothers in prayer. They were helmet-less each one of them bearing their shoulder plate in her direction. She saw the blood red pauldron of the Blood Angels, then the ancient cross of Dorn on the Black Templar to her right, and others bared the icons of the other Space Marine Chapters she had no name for the image. Each one of them had their heads bowed in solemn oaths to the Primarch and Emperor.

The strained glass windows showed the images of the Primarchs, the nine loyalists and the Emperor seated at the front upon the Golden Throne. She held high respect for the Emperor and the sons, but she did feel as if there were two of the Primarchs she held in higher regard as the Hands of the Emperor. Vulkan, Primarch of the Salamanders was one of them, and Sanguineous of the Blood Angels was the other one. She viewed Vulkan as the one who would led the Imperium when their manifest desteny was compleate. He would be the one, regarded by his brothers, historians and others, as the Primarch fit to led a peaceful empire. Sanguineous, the Angel of Blood, was the examplar for her. Through his deeds and ultimate sacrifice at the climax of the Horus Herasy told her what actions were needed to be done for the good of all. These were the leaders for the deeds she would do in her life time. There were no better guides to follow then the three.

Astrid looked up towards the front and standing there with incense orb in hand, murmuring prayers and rites of battle was Chaplain Titus Strome. He was a chaplain, but where on his right pauldron, there was no chapter symbol. He was one of the Black Shields, his ties to his former chapter severed and erased. He was purely an instrument of the Deathwatch. He was humble and accepting on his place. No ego, no arrogance, no hubris. His devotion to the Emperor was a close first to his hatred of anything alien.

He was without his helmet, and his tanned skin featured dark piercing eyes were bared to all who wished to gaze upon him. His gaze fell upon her and she paused out of instinct. Few people were able to hold their gaze against the chaplain, his thin face was scarred and gave the impression of looking into death itself. Astrid shook it from her head and looked right back at the Chaplain.

"Inquisitor Astrid, your tale from the purge of the Genestealers have reached the ears of the Deathwatch as well as the Inquisition." He looked down to her hands, which bared the head of the slain foe. "I see you have brought forth a skull of your enemy." He approached her and she knelt down, offering up the skull to him.

He took it with his spare hand and examined the skull, like a jeweler would examine the quality of a gem. He examined the runes she carved on the bone and chitin. The inquisitive I was on the bulbous cranium, and the runes of the Chapters she served alongside during the purge. He nodded approvingly and turned back to the alter.

Falling to one knee, he held it to the alter of the God Emperor of Mankind. "Master of Mankind, the father of our Fathers, hear us now! Your loyal servants have carried your will through their deeds and one of them, Astrid of Cadia, brings forth a symbol of her devotion. The skull of a foul Xeno, the blight of the universe, is presented before you in humbleness." He rose and placed the skull on the alter and turned back to the assembled, who came out of their personal prayers to pay him heed.

"Let this remind us that out place of worship is not confined only to these holy walls, but rather that it is the field of battle. Out voices raised in veneration to the God Emperor are just as worthy of his heeding as is the chatter of our bolters. Our litanies of battle is the same as ours of praise. Our road to victory shall be a pathway made of the corpses of the foul alien and heretic! To the Achillus crusade, to the Long Vigil!"

"Emperor, grand us the strength of both body and mind to bring your will to the enemies of man." The assemblage responded. Astrid rose as Titus finished the prayer, as if to leave, but she felt his silver arm hold her back. She looked back and saw his piercing eyes, and she knew that the Masters of the Deathwatch have summoned her.

* * *

Brand swung his claymore around, aiming for the left shoulder pauldron of Cain. The Flesh Tearer easily parried the clumsy attack with his serrated combat knife. "Come on, Brand. Show me what passes for fury amongst your Chapter!" Cain jabbed at Brand, who responded with another attack.

To the casual on looker, it would appear that both were equally matched, but to Ivan's trained eyes, the odds were in Cain's favor. While the claymore of Brand gave the Storm Warden more power and a longer reach, it was an off balanced weapon. It couldn't parry as easily as the combat knife or be just as accurate. In the hands of a brute like Cain, the weapon was a lethal extension of his body.

The Flesh Tearer lunged forward, slamming the butt of his blade into the unarmored thigh of the Apothecary. The blow off set Brand, allowing Cain to tackle the Marine to the ground.

The tearer of flesh let out a victory howl as he held the combat knife to the throat of Brand. "Yield!" The victorious mood was offset as Cain felt the tip of the claymore next to his arm pit. If Brand was to force his blade through all the way, he would cut both of Cain's hearts and wind pipe.

"You yield." Brand announced through hiss helmet. Cain hesitated for the briefest of instances before he relinquished his hold on Brand and drew the knife away from him. Brand did the same and pulled his claymore away.

Ivan returned to the bolter targets he was practicing with. He picked up the bolter and looked down the range. The moving targets were actually Ork boyz, providing some form of a challenge to the Marine practicing. Ivan racked the bolt and fire off in discipline volleys of two bolts. Some Orks felt to the ground missing arms and torso, others with their heads missing from their shoulders. After the end of thirty rounds he ejected the clip, and slammed home a fresh one. He continued this until he heard the cease fire message in his head.

The servitor who was watching the exchanged told him the results. He grimaced as he heard that his accuracy was ninety point seven percent: five point three percent beneath the accepted percentage. He reached for the bolter again when he heard a chime in his helmet, telling him he has been summoned by the Watch Captain immediately. He yelled to the other two Marines, who were about to practice again the same message he was told. They nodded and broke off into a swift movement, trying to see what the Watch Capitan wanted of them.

* * *

Ha'sen ran his gauntleted hand over the pages of knowledge presented before him. In his spare time, the rare and often desired commodity that the Marines of the Deathwatch he spent it sharpening his mind. Most of the time, he spent it in the forges, smith weapons in which he would carry out his divine retribution. Other times, he would spend it in his cell, piles of knowledge before him.

As a Devastator, he needed to know the vital spot of enemies and the Inquisition often had large recorded annals of the history and ultimate demise of the xenos. Some were more susceptible to bolter fire, and yet others required more punch behind it, maybe a plasma shot or a melta blast. If there was a weaknesses that needed to be exploited for victory, he had to know about it.

He wasn't however, having this moment of serenity alone. When he first came, he was unusually uncomfortable about the loneliness of the Long Vigil. Even though his Chapter Cult held such tenets as their basic creed, he wished for some familiar faces. When he first came to the watch fortress, he wished for his serfs back on Nocturne almost every day if he could not see any brothers from his home chapter. They were exactly what he desired in an of the arms man, strong, wise and educated to give him a decent mental spar.

Eventually, he would get a face he could rely upon his down time. His mortal companion in the Deathwatch was a short woman, rough late teens, and fire berry hair. But where her eyes should be, a band of ritual cloth was tied back. She was one of the gifted, a warp sensitive and a witch among other terms. He preferred her given title: Astropath.

Her name was Keely, and he came across her on a cleansing mission of a space derelict two years ago. Instead of Genestealers, their primary threat was none other then the greenskined orks. As he fought side by side with Astrid and the others clearing the way, he came across her hiding in a small room. She was scared, and he could hardly blame her. After assuring her that he was not a threat, she reluctantly followed him to the relative safety of their idling thunderhawk.

Once they returned to Erioch, she wanted to repay him in her service. Although he was uncomfortable with the idea initially, she proved that she was not like those who had lost their sanity through the Soul Binding process. That was a blessing he whispered to Vulkan and the Emperor every day during prayers. Her attitude was so similar, yet so different from his. She was kind and helpful at every turn, but she was not afraid to speak her mind. Others would have killed her for the last one, but he often welcomed a second opinion. That didn't mean it got annoying from time to time. She stood next to him now with her hands full of old leather bound totems. "My lord, are you certain you need all of these books? I can only carry so much parchment."

Ha'sen nodded and took a few of them off and flipped through the pages. "Yes, they are needed. Knowledge is power, that is the code of the Blood Raven Chapter. But it is more then just power: it is skill, it is wisdom, it is ultimately everything. Every little bit of knowledge can ease the chances of a life or death situation the kill team or I cannot walk away from." He opened the next one and flipped through the pages before he came across one with a dissection of Hive Fleet Dragon organisms and began to read.

She shook her head, and put the last of the books on the desk before sitting on her meager cot. "Still, haven't these old tomes been put of data-crystals? That would certainly lessen our load." There was no malice behind her words, Ha'sen was sure of it. He encouraged such behavior of his bondsmen. Such conjecture kept him mind focused on tasks ahead of himself. While his own brothers would more then willing be a mental combatant, Keeley was proving to be a formidable woman.

The room suddenly dropped several degrees and Keeley took in a sharp breath of air, an astropatic message coming for him. He turned his attention fully to her as she repeated the message as it came. "Ha'sen of the Salamanders, your presence is immediately required. Watch Capitan Brand Mac Lir requests it. Bring your human bondsman with you. She will be needed for the upcoming mission."

As the psychic power left her, she collapsed to the ground, drenched in cold sweat and short on breath. Ha'sen reached her and helped her recover herself from stumbling over herself. Ha'sen felt his suspicions grow. Keeley detested the very idea of violence, and would rather stay back then so much as even be within the sound range of weapons.

Ha'sen opened the door and the two figures departed for the room. Ready to see what the masters of the Deathwatch had for them.

* * *

Within minutes of their summons, Astrid stood with her kill team before another raven livery. Her battle armor was repaired and cleansed, giving her some satisfied feeling of being back in her second skin. Brand and Ivan stood at her left, while Cain, Ha'sen, and an astropath stood on her right.

Brand Mac Lir bore striking resemblance to the Apothecary she fought alongside, but then again they hailed from the Storm Wardens. He stood without his helmet, his shaved head and trimmed beard being the only visible characteristics besides his battle scars. "Brothers and Inquisitor as well as astropath, I summon you here for no ideal matter. Word has been brought to me by Goremann the Elder of a threat that, after substantial review, seemes to be a great deal of concern."

Ivan forced back something that could be viewed as a laugh. Goremann the elder was a venerable dreadnought, having served the Deathwatch for well over six hundered years after his internment into the armored chassis of the armor he called home till oblivion claimed him. He was an expert stratigist, but the mundane task of finalizing plans rather then being in the front of combat was chaffing the old warrior of the Crimson Fists. If this concern came from him, dreadnought support may be needed for some suspicious reason.

Mac Lir ignored the sound and presented them with a holographic display of a planet. Ocean world from the looks of it, with several floating hive cities in the oceans. "I give you Atlantica, a small world in the Quarantine Zone near Tau space." The marines needed no further explanation on where they believed this talk was going. A few balled their hands into fists

The Tau are a new race powerhouse in the region, promoting a heretical philosophy called the Greater Good. They gave sermons on peace, union, and brotherhood. There were several dark lies behind that philosophy, but the new race was not pacifists, using advance forms of plasma to make their vengence known to their enemies. If there was talk of a world in the quarantine zone, the tau would more then likely have some sort involvement.

"There is talk that there will be a massive upheaval on the planet, rumors of an alien conspiracy to overthrow the planet. Three of the First Founding Chapters, the Blood Angels, the Imperial Fists, and the Salamanders, have sent portions of their chapter to contend with the problems of the planet. However, things do not appear to be moving along steadily and there is some general disagreement amongst the chapters.

I do not believe for a single instant that this is all it is. There is something else beneath the surface. Getting back to the Chapters, you know that the deathwatch draws its warriors from both far and wide. I need you and your kill team to deploy to Atlantica, assist the Space Marine chapters in what way you can. Just remember we have no authority over them, nor they over you. Your vessel is waiting and the armory is awaiting for you to select your weapons for the mission. Because Goremann raised the concern of this threat, I will grant him permission to accompany you on this undertaking. Go with the Emperor, may He watch over you."

"And He with you." The kill team responded and they made their way to the armory, silent as the grave. Once they reached the armory, they began to look around for what would appear to be taken for the missions. After a few moments of what would appear as an awkward silence, the Black Dragon spoke.

"I do not know how much of the actual threat is credible or is it just a way for the Old One to get out of the librarium duties." He picked up a modified bolt pistol and aimed down the iron sights. A muttered chorus of ayes or objections came from the throats of the other inhabitants of the armory.

"Rebellion constantly draw attention away from the true threats of the Imperium. It may seem as a hinderer, but soon it will become a threat we cannot ignore. There may be little glory is squishing out these deserters, but better that then waste the lives of a billion Guardsman." Astrid replied as she holstered her bolt pistol. She then looked up and felt like a little kid in a sweet store, and noticed a weapon she wanted.

Ha'sen was helping his astropath, Keeley if they recalled, into a suit of carapace armor. It protected her arms, body, and legs while not for the head. She maintained herself with her staff before shaking her head. "Why would my presence be required on the field of battle? I am an astropath, not a storm trooper! I would be more hindrance then an actual help."

Ha'sen looked back to his weapon he selected and put the power pack for the multi-melta on his back. "You are an astropath, and while you may not be one for violence, your presence would serve us greatly. We are going down to a planet of fire and ice, our vox communicators may be interfered with by the natural elements or by the rebellion. Thus, it may be good to have some backup communication." She seemed to be satisfied with the answer but still felt uneasy.

Astrid looked over to Cain, who was getting the same bolter that he had on the previous mission, but she noticed an Astarte assault shotgun hanging from his side. He saw that she was looking at him and shrugged. "Urban combat, probably be best just to have some other form of close quarters combat." She nodded and looked at the grenade launcher she held in her hands, she loved the feeling it had. It reminded her of the training she received on Cadia.

To her left, Brand was selecting several specialist clips for his bolters, mainly metal storm rounds and kraken rounds. He did select a few of hellfire and vengeance rounds. To her right, Ivan had a power sword in one of his hands and in the other, a barrage plasma pistol. Goremann would be awaiting them in the hanger. He would be with his favored method of combat, twin power fists with under slung flamers.

The kill team left the armory and made their way to a thunderhawk, which would take them to their awaiting ship, _Vengeance's Cowl_. From there they would make warp translation to Atlantica, and on to their mission. As they boarded Astrid could not help but feel a wave of uneasiness wash over her. There was something more then the feuding between three chapters. This was something much more. And as that thought came into her mind, she was unsure if their armaments would suffice for them.


	4. Traitor's Dawn: Part I

**Well, here we go. One last chapter of planning then the real action begins. Remember to review.**

* * *

The warp tides were gracious to _Vengeance's Cowl_, making the standard week long travel in five days. The crew paid little heed to the kill team and for the most part, the kill team did the same in turn. Most of their time was in one of the several training holds, honing their skills in war. Astrid however, found herself drawn to the company of Goremann the Elder.

The machine was an ancient of war. Six hundred years ago, Goremann of the Crimson Fists chapter fell in battle and was entombed inside the coffin of a mighty dreadnought. He was affable, but his impatience was like a visible aura around the warrior. From time to time he would open and slam his metal fingers with impatience. He was a legendary Ork fighter, his fists dyed crimson more times then he could count with Ork blood.

Right now he was was telling her one of his past deeds, much like a father would sit his child on his knee and tell the tyke a story. Through the rumbling of his mechanical voice, he was telling her when he broke the back of an Ork Warboss with his power fists with the Ork's chanting his name as they watched. She smiled as he told it, but she was thinking the words of Mac Lir in the back of her head as he gave one last warning to them as they left the watch fortress. Summing their mission up for the most part, and reminding them of their place.

T_he Inquisition has received unsettling reports regarding the planet Atlantica in the Quarantine Zone. They speak of the rise of a powerful xenos inspired rebellion, unifying the world into a single focused rebellion against the Imperium of Man. In response, Warmaster Tetrarchus has issued the orders for Imperial Strike forces in the region to put down the rebellion swiftly and with extreme prejudice. Three Space Marine chapters have answered his call to for aid: the Salamanders, the Imperial Fists, and the Blood Angels. However, there is a rumored great amount of mistrust and friction between the chapters and this makes the conflict even worse then it was before._

_I suspect there is more at stake on this planet then meets the eyes. My reading of the Emperor's Terot confirms my suspicions and suggests caution. We are Battle Brothers of the Long Vigil... we of the deathwatch have a great deal of experience in bringing warriors from other chapters togther for a common goal. This fact alone makes your kill team well suited for brining the friction between the three under control before violence between them erupts._

_Astrid, I charge you with settling this feud. I respectfully request you do not use your "I can do what ever the hell I want and get away with it" in this situation. They have no command over our battle brothers and neither do we over them. Therefor, use your best judgment to resolve the situation. I trust you shall do your utmost to remain calm and remember the teachings of the Codex. In addition, the conquest of Atlantica is important to the Warmaster, so assist the chapters in retaking the world._

_Remember, should you fail here and now, the Crusade, the Reach, and the Aduptus Astarte as a whole may very well suffer greatly as a consequence._

"**Inquisitor, you seem to be lost in your thoughts or of my tale. What ails you? Is it of the mission ahead of us?**" Goremann's mighty voice boomedback into reality. She looked up at the mammoth of battle and felt ashamed for drifting off while he was speaking. It was very impolite of her.

"I did not know being well over six hundred years old gave you the ability to read my mind." She pulled her cloak closer to her body as the temperature dropped several degrees as the Warp drive was slowing down.

"**Minds? Pifft, you are an open book to me Inquisitor. I may not be one born with the blood of the warp in my veins but I picked up a few tricks in my time of service to read others. There are some whose face you can look at and not be able to tell their thought even with a thousand years to examine. Then there are others whose face tells everything.**" He boomed as he walked forward and lowered his chassis a fraction so the sarcophagus was looking right at her.

She struggled with her face for a moment, trying to regain some of her previous calm. "You are right, Goremann, I am concerned with the mission ahead of us. I do not know what to make of this. Three chapters of Space Marines, all of them from the first founding and closest relations to the Primarchs as we can get, can't seem to work together. Captain Brand was right, there is something more then just a xenos' inspired rebellion. The Tau would not waste their valuable troops and numbers on the quarantined worlds. The Xenocide would be a more immediate concern then trying to secure a starving world."

Goremann nodded his chassis. "**Indeed Inquisitor, even my founding chapter of the Imperial Fists have been brought down into this trivial conflict. Brining a world back into the Imperium brings little glory, but glory none of the less. It surprises me that even the affable Salamanders are not able to strike a compromise between the Chapters. It would seem the Emperor is displeased with us.**"

"Do not say such things. The Emperor has not forsaken his people to the Archenemy or the Xeno." A new voice entered the chamber, bearing the blue and white pauldron of the Ultramarines. Pilate was without a helmet, his blond hair and blue eyes pierced to the Crimson Fist as he pulled himself over the catwalk and landed on his feet. "If he has abandoned us, then all is truly lost." He looked over to Astrid and gestured for her to follow him. "We will be exiting the warp shortly, as such you will need to be present on the bridge."

She nodded and broke off into jog to catch up with the nimble Ultramarine who seemed to be beating her pace at even a walking one. She made the what to the bridge, where the rest of the kill team awaited her. They were all helmet-less and were looking out of the view ports as their ship bled into the existence to real-space, exiting the warp in a shimmer of fractured light. The ship stretched and shrunk to impossible proportions before snapping back to its size as they left the hellish realm. Tendrils of warp fire coated parts the ship, as though an indicator of the nightmare realm it came from.

From the view ports, they could clearly see Atlantica. The world was an azure blot on the infinite black of space. Even before the auspexs showed it, they knew there were three Battle Barges beloning to the chapters. _Scion of Terra _belonged to the Imperial Fists, while _Promethium's Flame_ was held to the Salamanders, and finally, _Sanguineous Rex_ was to the angels of Baal.

The video transmission line opened from the _Flame_, revealing the image of a Salamander Captain. Like Ha'sen, his skin was extremely black and peircing red eyes. He smiled warmly and opened his hands to them. "I am Capitan Tibias of the Salamanders Chapter." His voice carries a radiating sense of martial pride and the air of authority. There is a brief pause before he continues. " I am organizing a meeting of the Space Marines in this region shortly. Join me on board my ship so that we may discuss how the Deathwatch can assist us with the retaking of this planet for the Imperium. Please refer from any other communication until we can meet for the tactical briefing."

The line shortly goes dead afterwards, causing the Kill Team to look around at one another, then to Ha'sen. The Salamander then spoke. "Tibias is the newly promoted commander of the Third Company, shortly before I began my tenure with the Long Vigil. He is a strict adherence to the Promethean Cult, just as we all should." The Salamander then closed his mouth , not speaking another word.

Astrid shook her head and looked to the communication serfs. "What about the other ships, are they responding to any of our requests for communication?"

"Negative, milady. They all seem not inclined to talk." She swore under her breath, it would appear that the atmosphere was taking a turn for the worst. The Ultramarine pilot looked out into the void and gestured with his hand as the ships came into view.

"Apparently it is also taxing their strategic capabilities. Look at the ships." Astrid did so and noticed that they were significantly spaced out from each other. "They are not in a combat formation, weather for deployment or void combat. The Codex Astarte require a closer spacing then this rabble."

Keeley spoke up. "And judging by the tone of the commander's voice, this is a courtesy they are extending, rather than responding to any formal alliance or order."

Ivan nodded, and then cracked his neck. "It looks like we are the only hope for this mess. Us against the unknown... just the way I like it." Cain laughed and the Marines left for the hanger. They donned their helmets as they did so, and Astrid was the last to leave the bridge. She felt the ice of concern hit her as she looked out on to the ships.

"Emperor, guide us this day to the way to Your will." She whispered to her self before making the sign of the Aquila.

* * *

"This is a mistake." Cain voiced his disapproval and he checked his combi-bolter. The Thunderhawk was full, with Goremann taking up the majority of the space. Ivan powered his sword on and off again as he applied sacred oils to the blade to prepare it for battle. Ha'sen was looking into the wall, honing his combat sense. Brand continued sharpening his claymore and took no heed to the Flesh Tearer. Keeley tossed her staff back and forth with her hands.

"We need some tactical debriefing for the mission. I would like to know what exactly we are going up against before we charge headlong into the battle." Alysa responded to the Flesh Tearer's objections as she checked the grenades she carried with her. The six cylinder grenade launcher was filled with two types of grenades: fragmentation and krak.

"Of that I have no doubt. I just dislike this politicking, we belong on the fronts. We are warriors, not quill pushers!" Cain shot back. Brand looked over to him as he sheathed his claymore. The apothecary stood and steeped forward, until his helmeted face was right in front of Cain's.

"Is that the reason, or is it you just don't want to see your cousins?" Cain shot Brand a look that made the Flesh Tearer want to kill the Storm Warden. Brand didn't know the full story, but he knew that there was some friction between the Flesh Tearers and the Blood Angels.

In the end of the Horus Heresy the Angel of Blood, Sanguineous himself, offered himself on the anvil of war and was broken by the Arch-traitor Horus Lupercan. Since then, the sons of Baal suffered from the rage in which they envisioned the last few hours of their Primarch's life. The Flesh Tearers were not only afraid of the mutation that turned them into mindless killers, rather they _embraced _it! Their Death Company was ever filling with warriors and in a few centuries, the Flesh Tearers would be extinct. Cain was aware of his fate, but he wanted to be sure his final days would be written in honor rather then fear.

Astrid shut the two up with a stern look as she felt the gunship slow down. They were inside the _Flame_ and soon their door would be opening. She gestured for the squad to face forward, and they did so. The door whined open in the void lock and her gaze saw four Space Marines bearing the emerald green and tar black of the Salamanders. Tibias was at the head, his honor guard in tow, helmet-less and exactly as he was originally given in the pic-projector.

Astrid was the first to leave and before the Salamander Capitan, she knelt down to him. She was familiar with this procedure, but instead of giving a false scene of humbleness, this was ligament. "Capitan Tibias, I am Inquisitor Astrid of the Ordo Xenos. My Kill Team has heard of your plight to retake Atlantica for the Imperium of Man. They come as Battle Brothers, not as members of the Inquisition." Her ears picked up the Honor guard turning their heads to look at their commander, as if they couldn't believe this.  
Tibias placed a gauntleted hand on the top of her head. "Inquisitor, it does the Imperium good to have such loyal servants of the Throne. I respectfully accept your aid in this struggle." She rose and and Ha'sen steeped forward and the two grasped puldrons. "Brother."

"Brother Captain. I did not expect you to join the Crusade. You are certainly a welcomed sight." Ha'sen said to the fellow Salamander. Tibias greeted the others equally, landing a hand on the chapter pauldron of the Marines and placed his hand on the hair of Keeley, giving the Astropath a small simple smile.

As they left for the command room, Ivan spoke up. "You speak of an attack, but I sense that there is some discord between the other chapters. I thought you would find a way to fix it, Salamander." There was no barb in the comment, and Tibias saw that.

"It is assigning the polar opposites to work with each other, cousin. The Imperial Fist Felross wants a cold and calculated purge of the resistance and Blood Angel Raphael wants to be in the thickest of combat at any time now. We will allow you a few moments to meet them as you see fit." The salamander took the large group to the war room. There they would meet the forces of the conquest of Atlantica.

* * *

To call it a war _room_ would be an understatement. It was a massive chamber, much like the void lock they were in not too long ago. There, split into three groups, were the different chapters. The Imperial Fists had the smallest numbers, twenty battle Brothers in total. However, they were the best equipted and brought two of their venerable Dreadnoughts with them. The Blood Angels were the second and also second largest in size, composed of two five man assault squads, one full strength tactical squad and one five man devastator squad. The Salamanders were the largest in number and brought a huge amount of armor, including a sacred Land Raider.

Cain and Brand went to the Blood Angels, there they laid eyes on Raphael. He was a jaded old warrior, his blond hair turning white with the sands of time, and three metal rivets in his head to designate three hundred years of service to the Golden Throne. "Cousin." The warrior said to Cain and the two locked gauntlets and the Captain turned to Brand. "Storm Warden, legends of your chapter's prowess at arms has reached the halls of Baal. Lord Commander Dante said he was honored to fight at your brother's sides."

Bran bowed his head to him. "Please, to fight alongside such a warrior was all of our honor."

Raphael smiled, revealing steel teeth. "True enough. Your presence is most welcomed, and soon I hope we will be able to head to the frontlines of this rebellion. We attacked once under that... pup!" He gestured to Tibias, who was locked in a conversation with Astrid, Ha'sen, and Keeley. "We would have beaten the rebellion then and there, but by Sanguineous' blood, a counter attack forced us back. We were not unleashed like we should have been."

Cain laughed. "You understand what it means to be a Flesh Tearer then. We are the Chosen of Sanguineous, and we come to deliver our judgment upon the populace. We are not arbitrators!"

The Blood Angel leaned in close for Cain to hear. "I need you to convince your Kill Team to accompany me to battle. We will make planet fall together, and we will show not only the rebellion the fury of the Angels of Sanguineous, but our allies. They will see what our strength is, and that is that we attack before our enemy can strike back, to hold him by his throat... only to let go when he dies."

Cain grinned wildly, like an unleashed wolf. "Cousin, it would be my pleasure to do such a thing."

* * *

"It is good that you made it when you did. Tibias and Raphael are more of a hindrance then a damned help." Felross' tone was that of annoyance, something Ivan, Pilate, and especially Goremann found a surprise. "The Salamander panders the rebels and the Angel wants to get us killed with his recklessness."

Pilate nodded. "They should adhere to Codex and realize that this situation requires a planned and coordinated assault will be needed too bring this rebellion to heel."

"Yes, Ultramarine. We need to bring a coordinated attack. Let the weak be culled off by the fires of war, and the strong will arise once we take back the world." There was a sound of a hammer striking to gather the attention of the assemblage drew their attention. "Be sure to voice those concerns." Felross told the Marines as they all gathered to face Tibias.

"Battle Brothers of the First founding and beyond, it is time we made our strike against the enemies of the Emperor. The planet of Atlantica is ravaged, beset by rebels loyal to their alien masters, the whole world could turn on us and this could bring great damage to the Crusade. If civil war is to erupt here, it would draw away vital imperial forces from their battles against the Tau, Chaos or the foul Tyrinids."

Chaplain Dunn, the de facto leader of the Blood Angel tactical squad, slammed his black armored fist into the desk. "Which is where we should be. This battle draws us away from true threats. Threats which require action, not squabbling of bureaucrats. We need to strike now, before this problem draws us even further away from the true meaning of the Crusade!" Quietly to himself, Rafael murmuered some prayers for patience. Dunn would have been an asset in any situation, save this one. His desire to rend and kill suppressed even his other basic moods. They were all impatience, by the blood it was paining them, but Dunn's anger would soon get the better of him. Chaplain or no.

Felross glared at the Chaplain. "You speak of combat as if you were to thrive on it, Blood Angel. You misunderstand the situation at hand. If this would be the purging of a deamon world, burning a green skinned horde to ash, I may very well fight along side you as such. But this is a planet to be brought back into the Imperium. While the weak should be culled by the flames of war, excessive losses for the civilians may harbor descent for decades to come."

"Then they will not dare strike out against the Emperor's chosen. If you could only see through that Imperial Fist-" Dunn gestured to the kill team before a new voice entered the argument.

Tibias interrupted before more words would be said to damage the already fragile atmosphere. " Yet, the Emperor gives us hope. For now we are no longer alone. The warriors of the Long Vigil bring with them some of the greatest warriors the Imperium can give. Inquisitor Astrid, I understand that you realize this is an Astarte mission, but your knowledge is welcomed."

Astrid rose and punched in a few codes, which brought the planet of Atlantica into sharp focus. "There are three primary concerns. Helsmark, the Granite Spire, and the other hive cities. Helsmark is projecting this alien master vox message, the Granite Spire is the house of noble government, and the other hive cities may hold valuable information to learn of the exact nature of this rebellion. From an Inquisitor's view, I would go for the head of the rebellion and slice it off before it can damn any others."

Raphael stood and spoke when Astrid was finished. "Even the Inquisition realizes the need for action. We should strike now, before the rebellion can strike at us with a renewed force."

Ha'sen stood and faced the Blood Angel. "Yet your tactics will have the civilian corpses piled into mountains! I know the ways of war, but your methods of war would appall a dog of the World Eaters! We need to consider their safety, to be sure that they will not attack us because we slaughter the guilty and the innocent alike."

Dunn growled under his helm. "Your concern is touching, spawn of Vulkan. Tell me, if your kind didn't let your guard down during the Drop Site, would you have more chapters to sire?" The blow was a low one, even for one of the Blood Angels it was a detestable comment to bring up the failing of the Heresy. Ha'sen took a step back as if he had been struck and he was tempted to do the same to the Chaplain. To mention of an attack where the legion was reduced to seventy percent was a dreadful assault on the honor of the Salamanders.

Goremann boomed. "**ENOUGH! Brother Ha'sen, your concerns for the populace is due noted and I acknowledge the recklessness of Raphael's tactics. But we need to have a clear and disciplined plan. Perhaps it would be best if the Kill Team assists in assaulting the Granite Spire, where we can find the truth.**"

Tibias spoke once again, "Yet such tactics reveal only the possible cause, we need to examine the real cause. The citizens of the planet will know."

Raphael spoked, rising from his chair for the final time. "You may send your time talking and bickering. I will be in the hangers awaiting to see whom the kill team will side with. I offer great reward and glory if they choose me." Words said, he left the command chamber.

Felross gestured for the rest of his assemblage to do the same, making his parting words as he did so. "Know that he is a folly. Join me and I will promise you glory in this undertaking." Tibias soon left afterwards, saying the exact same thing more or less. Soon the Kill Team was left to themselves.

Keeley spoke up. "Well, that was productive. " Brand let a sharp laugh escape his lips and they looked to each other.

"**It would appear we have to choose. Felross' campaign tactic is sound and adheres to the Codex. However, this old war machine has had enough of waiting. I wish to be out in the field standing along with Space Marines once again.**" Goremann's voice spoke and the others began to nod.

Ha'sen was bitter, an experience exceedingly rare for him. "Dunn... I will not serve along side such a warrior who wears the honored black of the chaplaincy and can insult a loyal Primarch. He needs to be reminded that he can not idly throw around such insults."

Astrid nodded, and she felt a smile creep on her lips. "Agreed Ha'sen. I may have a way you can remind him of his arrogance."

* * *

Rafael's spirit rose when he saw the sable coated warriors enter the flight chamber. With a Dreadnought in tow, they would surely be undefeated in their undertaking. The kill team approached him and he slammed a fist into his chest plate as he bowed his head. "Sanguineous smiles on us this day. I would be honored to accompany such warriors as yourselves."

Ha'sen steeped forward and nodded to the Captain. He then looked to the Chaplain "I hope I did not hurt your chapter's fragile ego. Are all debts forgiven?" Dunn said in a somewhat mocking tone. Astrid then began to rub her eyes profoundly, and then Ha'sen lashed out. His fist buckled the skull helmet of the Chaplain, sending the Blood Angel sprawling. When Dunn fell to the ground, Ha'sen was soon after him. Three more blows from the Salamander's fist drove the reminder home.

Brand and Ivan pulled their brother off of him, though it was greatly over exaggerated. Some of the Blood Angels cracked a smile under their helmets, even Rafael bit his bottom lip to refrain from such an emotion. "All debts are forgiven, Blood Angel."

Dunn rose from the ground growling. "He assaulted me. I will see you pay for this."

Astrid stopped massaging her eyes and looked around. "Did something happen? Sorry, I must have had something in my eyes. Did you see any thing Brand?"

"No, nothing, my pic-corder must be broken."

"Same here. Now if I recall correct there was something about liberating a planet from the clutches of Traitors?" Ivan spoke up and the kill teams departed to their awaiting Thunderhawk while the Blood Angles did the same. Dunn stood there for a moment, growling all the while. The Salamander had attacked him and none of his brothers defended him.

They would soon regret such hesitance to action.


	5. Traitor's Dawn: Part II

As the Thunderhawk roared into the atmosphere, the vox link between the Blood angels and the Deathwatch was kept open. A large holographic display of target Helsmark, a massive refinery for the ores beneath the ocean world. Astrid brought it forward into a sharper contrast. "Inquisitor, Helsmark is heavily guarded. The equivalent of three Imperial Guard regiments, heavy flak guns and an assortments of heavy weapons, many of them capable of destroying power armor."

Red arrows showed their trajectory, a black arrow showed how the Deathwatch would attack. The Blood Angels would take the left and the Deathwatch would do the same from the right. Astrid grimaced as the projected enemy casualties continued to soar upward. Amongst them were civilians, both traitor and loyalist would be culled with the sweeping swords from the Angels of Death. Beside her, Cain looked at the numbers with a sort of grim satisfaction. He had personally led several such attacks on unsuspecting worlds that belonged to the enemy. There were always civilian casualties, there was no way around it when you personally unleash terror on a population.

Though behind his face, Cain was deeply troubled. He had felt the presence of them even thousands of miles from _Sanguineous Rex_. They were here, the warriors of blackened armor and blood lust. The Death Company was here. He could sense their desire to be free of space, to be on the ground to wade waist deep in the entrails of their enemy. That is why Chaplain Dunn stayed behind, to ready them for the battle.

Their method of attack was to be short and brutal. Deployment would be on the landing pads, securing them to be sure no reinforcements to arrive to help the traitors. After they secured the landing, they would push through and destroy the defenses against their Thunderhawks. When that was finished, it was to be a slaughter of the rebel leaders. Civilians that would be in the way would probably be slaughtered where they stood.

It was missions like this that made Astrid realize the importance of the Deathwatch's policy of mixing and combining the warriors of several chapters together into a unified kill team. Cain and his cousins relished in the slaughter of close quarters combat, Ha'sen realized the importance of long range combat. While Ivan and Brand had their swords as the weapons of choice, how they fought with them could be no more alike then night and day. As the old Terran saying went, variety was the spice of life. Even in the inquisition, the saying had some meaning of truth for them.

"Fight hard and fight well. I will meet you in the middle. For the Emperor and Sanguineous!" Capitan Rafael's voice echoed over the comm one last time before the line was cut. Astrid turned off the the holographic display and pulled free her bolt pistol. She pulled back to chamber the first round and whispered a silent prayer to the Emperor and the Primarchs.

It was then she remembered the words of th God Emperor when he talked about the Space Marines.

"_**They shall be my finest warriors, these men who give of themselves to me. Like clay I shall mould them, and in the furnace of war forge them. They will be of iron will and steely muscle. In great armour shall I clad them and with the mightiest guns will they be armed. They will be untouched by plague or disease, no sickness will blight them. They will have tactics, strategies and machines so that no foe can best them in battle. They are my bulwark against the Terror. They are the Defenders of Humanity. They are my Space Marines and they shall know no fear." **_She smiled, and they knew none.

Next to her, the Space Marines made their last assessments. Each checked to make sure that their weapons were armed and readied. Ha'sen activated his multi-melta and Ivan readied his bone blades. Brand checked his reductor and pain killers, making sure he had enough for the battle to come. The Flesh Tearer finished one last round of sharpening his combat knife. The astropath groaned to herself as the ship began to slow. Soon they would be in the thickest of the fighting, and Pilate's voice came into existence. "I will be on standby for close ground support once you get those flak cannons off line."

The Kill Team didn't have time to respond before the door opened and they saw their target. It was a massive platform, five hundred meters in it's perimeter and roughly a company of soldiers held their ground their. Astrid was the first one off, followed close behind by Ivan and Cain, who each felt their blood lust take hold. Brand and Ha'sen were next, taking up firing positions as bullets and las bursts zipped overhead. Keeley and Goremann were the final ones off, the small psyker hiding herself behind the massive armored shadow of the Dreadnought.

With combat underway, their instincts kicked in and their broke off into their positions. Cain rolled behind some crates and used them for cover against the onslaught of las weapons. He looked up and took in all of the details in and instant. Two hundred traitors shared the landing platform with them. While most had las guns, he saw grenade launchers and a few lower grade bolt guns. Their armor was mixed, but light. He switched to metal storm rounds and stood up.

Aiming down the sights he pulled the trigger in a calm, disciplined attack. The rounds exploded and shredded the traitors with the white hot fragments from the bolter. He fired the gun off in three round bursts, ducking back only when he needed to reload his weapon. Ha'sen was soon up next to him, his Multi-melta at the ready. "We were promised an army to hold up against us. This is no more then an army of rabble! Perhaps their ghosts would give us a better fight then this." Ha'sen stood up and aimed his multi-melta down range. He relaxed his body as he pulled the activation lever.

A melta weapon used suspended partials compressed to an unstable molecular state and direct the resulting energy from such reactions out the barrel. The result was superheated air that could eat through tank armor and even solid granite. Against unarmored targets... it was a slaughter in every sense of the word. Several cubic meters were incinerated, those rebels unlucky enough to be caught in the radius were turned to nothing more then ash. Weapons became puddles of boiling slag, and the stone beneath their feet turned into a molten slurry.

Ivan took forward with his jump pack, landing amongst those on the offensive. A middle aged man, eyes cold as ice, threw himself at Ivan with his chainsword. The Black Dragon responded with a bone blade through the gullet. He activated his power sword in the other hand, and slashed out with it. In one smooth move, he decapitated three rebels and continued to fight. Blood, both his and his foe, splashed all around him. Around him, grenades courtesy of Astrid, fell down to start showering fragmentation further into the ranks.

The other members of the Kill squad were having their own fun. Goremann was using his power fists to bash rebels into the boiling ocean beneath, or breaking their backs with powerful momentum. Cain, now far closer to the rabble, demonstrated what a serrated knife in the hands of a Flesh tearer could do to exposed flesh. Brand was in the thickest of it, carving his way through the enemy numbers with his claymore in hand. Ha'sen used his bolt pistol as he got closer to the brothers, not wanting to risk a wild melta blast that could easily kill his comrades. The astropath was far in the back, mentally directing the kill team to threats as they appeared.

Goremann held his ground and swung his fists from side to side. "**You underestimate them, Ha'sen. There are already gaining reinforcements**. **Besides**," He grabbed several corpses in both of his hands and brought them back, "**the dead are not entirely without their uses**." He hurled them forward, having the corpses snap bone against bone of the living. Ha'sen agreed and laid down several blasts of his melta weapon.

Ivan used his bulk to knock five traitors from the platform and into the oceans below. "Platform clear, move up!" Astrid commanded the marines and they proceeded through the large ore carting tunnel. Each one of them kept their weapons trained on the shadows, just in the off chance a traitor with a powerful weapon escaped their gaze. Astrid was in the front and she activated her vox link. "Blood Angels come in. How goes the offensive?"

There was the sound of battle and a chainsword burying itself in the torso of a traitor. Rafael's voice came to reply. "The battle goes well, my brothers have secured the landing pad and are moving up to the radio beacon. I am certain- one moment." There was the sound a a fist cracking skull before his voice came back. "That there will be more coming for us, leaving the field open to you. Good hunting." Astrid killed the link and turned around the corner, holding her fist above her head and halted the kill team. Heavy weapons squads, dozens of them, lined up the surrounding area. Their weapons contained heavy bolter and even an autocannon or three. She grimaced, each one would rupture power armor and reduce the kill team to bloody chunks.

Ivan peered around the corner and planed his back against the wall. "Throne. We will not be able to survive much more then three seconds." He looked to Alyssa's grenade launcher and looked back to the heavy weapons. "Your grenade launcher only has a range of sixty meters. Those weapon emplacements are well without the range of the launcher. We need to get closer before we can effectively combat such methods.

Ha'sen nodded, and produced a blue cylinder. Pulling the pin he lobbed it over the corner. Weapon fire drew the attention of the smoke grenade, which sprouted a plume of white phosphorous smoke. Using this to their advantage, the kill team moved through the smoke. Their helmets quickly changed to allow them to see through the smoke. Raising their bolters they killed the heavy bolter and autocannon teams. There was still three mortar teams which were zeroing in on the Blood Angels.

Cain moved over the sandbags of the autocannon emplacement, and tossed the bodies aside. Hefting the auto cannon, he tore of the trigger guards and slammed home a fresh drum. "Take out those mortar teams, I will cover your advance. Go!" He yelled to the others as blast doors opened revealing at least three platoons of traitors, many of them armed with hellguns. The rest obliged and Cain planted one of his feet on a bag and used the autocannon to give plenty of surpessing fire.

Astrid was the first over the defenses and with her bolt pistol, began to make ragged meat of the mortar teams. Ivan was next in, throttling through traitors and using their corpses as a blunt combat weapon. Ha'sen and Brand were in the back, moping up any of the survivors that were left in their wake. Astrid raised a finger to her vox. "Rafael, the mortar teams are down. You are clear to advance."

"Understood." The Blood Angel's voice cracked back over the vox link and the kill team regrouped on Goremann, who was at the front of the blast doors. A traitor with his leg shorn off at the knee crawled away from them. Cain planted his boot firmly on the back of the human and drove the barrel of the empty autocannon trough the skull and into the cement below.

"Brother, isn't that just overkill?" Brand asked as he swapped his magazine for a fresh one.

"Well, given what my cousins are doing I will call my actions _quite_ restrained." Ivan cracked a small smile under his helm and Cain looked to the blast doors. "Adamantium, at least half a meter thick. Nothing short of a siege cannon could have a hope of busting down these doors. Even your multi-melta Ha'sen, would take several shots before even a small circle from which to soot through."

Goremann raised one of his power fists. "**You know, we could be polite and try knocking**." Raising his power fists over his head in a dramatic flair, he brought it crashing down with all of his force. The doors held their ground, but there was a massive dent on where his fist was. Brining it back again, he swung at the door and though it resisted for a moment, it gave into the titanic pressure.

The doors swung open and what traitors were back there fired off with their las weaponry and autoguns. They were an easy target for the bolters. Before they all went in, Brand looked and gestured to the sky. "Meteorites, look."

Cain looked back and felt the blood chill in his veins. "That is no meteorite, Apothecary. That is a Blood Angel drop pod."

* * *

Dunn stared down from the gantry. Below him, thirteen raven colored Death Companies stood in individual ranks. Each of them awaited to board the Drop Pods that stood on the decks, like massive black tear drops. Ready to deliver sorrow to the detainees of Helsmark.

In the final moments of the Horus Heresy, when their beloved Primarch Sanguineous was slaughter by his closest erstwhile brother, the Blood Angels and all of their scions were plagued by the Black Rage. It was a swirling madness, that could drive the most soundest of warriors insane. Witnessing their father's final moments of life, they entered into a rage that could not be lifted even by the most grievous of wounds. As such, on the eve of all battles, the Chaplains read the mass of doom. If there was any who could not stand those words that called upon the beast inside, they were brought into the folds of the ashen armored Death Company.

A serf drifted in between the individual marines, anointing their armor with lubrication oils and runes of warding. Dunn looked to the nearest serf as the body quivered during it's mundane task. A nero-cable stretched from under the blood colored robes, connecting the brain to the spine. Each one of them were lobotomized vat-grown servitors, nothing more then drones.

Dunn felt his grip tighten on the gantry support rail. These warriors deserved better. But no saying of that could be used to coerce someone sane enough to do it. The Death Company was cursed, the walking dead. Their bodies intact, the minds consumed by the rage. All what was left was to be sure they did not enter their Primarch's embrace clean of their enemies blood. Dunn, would be honored to lead them in their final charge.

In the dome of the chamber, the chapter's charges began intoning the Mass of Doom in High Gothic. "Our vengeance shall be unceasing..." Dunn echoed the choir, reciting important lines. Uncoiling his rosary, he used the Mass of Doom in his own way. Even before he was brought to the chaplaincy, he had a talent for finding those who were of his flock. He instead, used this prayer to churn these warriors into a fervent rage. "Flesh is ephemeral, wrath is eternal..."

Leading these warriors onto the planet, he would beat even his brothers to the kill. Though Rafael gave him orders to deploy his flock only when needed, he would show the Deathwatch true skill at arms. The Salamander would regret crossing him. He applied his skulled helmet, retro fixed by other portions of armor.

He slid the helmet back on, covering a small green tattoo on the side of his neck as he did so. It was time to make war against enemies of man. For the Emperor.

* * *

Goremann tossed another body casually aside. His power fist fingers were caked in blood and gore, inside the casket there was a small smile that played on his lips. It was nice to get out of the stuffy confines of the Librarium and back to the field of battle where he belonged. The kill team ahead of him opened fire upon the last of the vanguard. With the last of their anti-air forces out of the way, Pilate could give them some support.

Then there was a whine overhead, one that seemed to grow louder as time went by. After clicking the vox link on and off, the sound still grew until Goremann could identify it as an engine noise. Then it became all to obvious to him and Cain as well. "Drop Pod! Scatter!"

The solid black drop pod slammed into the ground around two hundred meter's from their current position. Even at that distance, it was enough to set their teeth on edge and Ha'sen to shield the Astropath with his massive built to be sure that she wouldn't be sent flying by the shock wave.

The doors to the drop pod flung open and soon there was the sound of dreadful chainswords and the gate the guards were defending fell from the shock wave, exposing massive amounts of the civilian population. The black armored space marines seemed not to care that the civilians were unarmed and descended upon them like a tidal wave of death.

Astrid had seen much in her short time in the Imperium. She had seen entire worlds killed in the distance. She saw Titans stride across the battlefield, and million man armies slamming into one another. Nothing could have prepared her for what the detainees of the drop pod were doing. Some were slamming their fists through the ribcage of their target and tearing it out to take a bite. Others decapitated three in a single swoop of their weapons.

She was about to give the order for the Kill Team to open fire of the new comers when she felt an uncomfortable hand fall upon her shoulder. She looked back to Cain, who gave her a look that spoke volumes about letting it be. She saw his spare hand readied his shotgun, and he was loading in a blue shell.

One of the blacked armor Marines came chainsword aimed high and Cain filled the gap in between it and the astropath with ease and pulled the trigger. The shot electrified the air as it made it's way into the power supply of the power armor. The suit of armor became dead weight, throwing the Death Company off balance. Cain the shot out his hands and restrained his cursed cousin. "Brand-erh- a little help here. Tranqu, max dose. Egh, deh, now!" He struggled to hold him back as the apothecary rammed a needle into the unarmored neck of the warrior. The body soon became limp as the user was rendered unconscious and Cain clicked open a vox channel to Rafael. "So, this is how you wish to beat us to the objective? Using the Death Company to delay us?" It was an open squad link, meaning each of them heard it.

There was a pause on the other side of the link and an unsure voice broke it. "Say again cousin. What Death Company?" clicking it to video feed, Cain gazed down into the armor of the marine at his feet. The labored breathing could be heard, so it was clear to the other Blood Angel was seeing. "By the Blood! Chaplain Dunn, if you-"

A new voice echoed over the entire vox network. "Bested the Deathwatch to the objective and brought the traitors to their end? Yes Capitan, I most certainly have."

The line went dead as the Deathwatch walked through the blood bath, literally. They enountered another one of the Death Company and It was Goremann who help him at ease while brand added the drugs to the Marine's body. There were no survivors in the wake of the Death Company's assault. The young, the old, the strong and the weak were put to the butcher's blade like cattle. Not even children were spared from the massacre. Keelye spoke in a hushed whisper. "Sons of death have visited them. Their multi-headed leader carries them to slaughter. For the Emperor they say."

The psyker's ramblings were ignored by the kill team for the moment. They saw the Blood Angels, still at full strength, making their way along with them as the sounds of slaughter echoed in the distance. They reached the communication relay and standing there was a smug, satisfied expression on the face of Dunn. Rafael took off his helmet and clamped it to his side. His expression would make a World Eater think twice about his action. "Chaplain Dunn, I gave you explicit orders to hold the Death Company in orbit unless it was absolutely necessary. Unless my mind must be going with my patience, I gave no such command!"

The Chaplin shrugged. "I took initiative and brought us victory. They are traitors and nothing more."

Keeley then raised her finger and pointed it directly at the Chaplain. "Bringer of death and woe for ten millennium. Of blue and green, shadows and ghosts. I see it clearly as you carry out his will." The Chaplain looked as if he wanted to kill the psyker, but Ivan stepped in front of her, bone blades at the ready.

Ha'sen ignored them and turned to the communication relay and tried to terminate the signal. There was the sound of hitting the same rune many times over. "There is a problem." The others turned their attention to him. A map came up on the screen displaying the world and Ha'sen gestured to it. "Look at this. The signal isn't coming from here, rather it is coming from all around the world. Not even the Tau have this capability of deception."

Astrid looked to him. "Then why would they see it as such a threat... why-"

Her answer came in the form of a blinking red light that began all around the city. Everywhere she looked there was some blinking red dot. "Melta bombs! Get out!" Ivan Yelled before everything when bright and then dark.


	6. Traitor's Dawn: Part III

**Well, I got this chapter out sooner then the last. Hopefully this is also better then the last one as well. As always, I will leave that up for you to decide. Please remember to review.**

* * *

It was the static of her vox that made Astrid come to her senses, and the blood in her mouth that reassured her she was far from dead for now.. She opened her eyes wearily and looked around at the devastation racked by the cluster of melta bombs. She tried to get to her feet but hit her head on an iron I beam. Sighing, she planted her back against what used to be a hab-block wall. She took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light and grimaced as she tried to move her left arm and only felt stinging pain in reply. She looked down to the arm and felt where her arm was broken. She soon recoiled at the extreme amount of fiery pain. Using her free hand she activated her vox and searched through the channels. Something, or someone was jamming the signal.

She used her Cadian training of urban combat to get her senses straight in this mess. She tried to listen specifically for any sound of whistling wind, signifying a hole large enough to crawl through. She kept low to conserve any available oxygen. Sometimes she wished she was a guardsmen where things were much more straight forward, and not the labyrinth that was that of the Inquisition. Using her one good arm, she pushed the loose rubble aside and dragged herself forward. "Emperor, thank you for guarding me through my time of trials."

She heard another voice and recognized them as the astropath. "Keeley... are you still in one piece?" She heard a groan from the pile and knew that if the psyker was strong enough to groan, she was still alive. Crawling over to where she heard them, she saw that Keeley was for the most part unharmed. A few nasty bruises here and there, though there was nothing debilitating of her wounds. "The plan has gone to the warp. Do you think you can use your gifts to find away out?"

Keeley smirked through blood stained teeth and raised her hand weakly "I may be down Inquisitor, but I am far from out." Sapphire flames covered her extended limb and Astrid looked up at the concrete above them. Through a series of exposing pressure points, cracks began to form on the stone and soon the cracks crossed each other in a spider web like design.

A little more pressure was applied and the concrete flew out and the piercing sunlight shined it's way in there. There were the sounds of heavily armored footsteps rushing towards that direction. Even though it was probably one of theirs, Astrid raised her bolt pistol. A heavily armored figure stood over the hole and through squinting, Astrid saw dark green. On the shoulder pad was black with the head of a salamander. "Inquisitor. Praise the Emperor, we thought you dead."

The figure barked orders for others to come here and reached down to offer Astrid his hand. She took it and was hauled up to the surface, though not too gently. Keeley was next and when they got to the surface, the utter devastation of the melta charges was everywhere. Most of the platform was leveled with rubble and the whine of the supports beneath them was evident that didn't have much time left on here.

"We were en route to your position to see if you completed your objective when we saw the explosion. It came as fast as we could." The Salamander with the Sergeant colors said as he scanned the horizon. "We need to extract before the rebellion comes to finish off what it started."

"_Or lack of a rebellion. Something doesn't feel right about this whole mission_." Keeley's voice entered Astrid's head. Though initially taken back by it, Astrid quickly recovered and replied.

"_Speak your mind, Astropath_."

"_Look around you Inquisitor, where are the Tau signs and emblems? Where are the defaced statues of the Emperor and his loyal servants? What about that radio broadcast we were to terminate. That didn't sound alien to me. Alien languages are just as xeno to me as their speakers, but it didn't sound right. Emperor, I have lost my eye sight but I can still see there is something more then just a xeno backed plot to overthrow the Imperium._"

Astrid paused and did as the Astropath said. She noticed it then. Everything was lacking the signs of a xenos backed rebellion. The remaining Aquilas bore their stances with the pride and vigor of a loyalist planet, the posters that were burning reminded them all of their service to Terra, and there was nothing here that suggested Tau sympathizers.

They had been so into the kill, in the maelstrom of battle, that they let their emotion get the better of them. They had been assured of the credibility of the threat by the commanders, but as they looked harder at it there was nothing that would suggest such rebellion was in play. There was armed resistance, and undoubtedly they were dissenters to the rule of Terra. But this was far from the disciplined and organized tau uprisings they had put down before.

Then it struck her like a kraken bolt round. The radio relay, she was told that it was Tau propaganda. But the more she recalled the bits she picked up, the less it sounded Tau. She even spoke the languages of the alien and that message was not in any dialect of Tau that she could recall. Then if it wasn't the Tau sending messages to the populace... what was it then?

There was some ruckus behind them and all seven of them turned and saw another figure clothed in power armor. Black and silver were the colors Astrid could see, giving her a small portion of relief. When the silver shape of a spiraling dragon in silver was on the chapter icon, Ivan cleared the dust storm that was being whipped up by the ocean winds. The Assault Marine clenched his side, covering up a wound caused by the fallen debris.

"Inquisitor, I see you are in one piece." He looked over to the assembled Marines and Astrid didn't need to be a psyker to tell that his greeting promptly died on his lips. In an instant, he pulled free his power sword and barrage plasma pistol. The salamander closest to Astrid fired off a folly of bolts, but not in a disciplined attack that Astrid had seen Salamanders.

"Kill him in the name of the Emperor!" The Sargent yelled and turned back to Astrid. "I hate to see an animal suffer, so how about some anesthetic for the pain?" Out of the corner of her left eye, she saw the Marine's hand ball into a fist. Then all she could feel was a sharp pain across her unguarded jaw followed by complete blackness.

* * *

It was their armor that gave the impostors away. Ivan could tell that even from his position. The paint on the armor was fresh, as if only a few hours fresh. Also, they lacked a company insignia, which any Techmarine would know to paint upon the holy armor of his Brothers. The salvo of bolts hit his armor, though it was mainly superficial damage. Though in his wounded state, his ballistic skill was not much better. Those shots that did hit seared off the paint revealing burnt ceremite from the shoulder pads and chest plate. Normally they would be good shots, but this was Mark IV Maximus Armor. It was designed to take the brunt of of attacks.

The plasma pistol in his hand clicked empty and he slammed it back into its holster with a growl. Gripping is power sword with both of his hands, he activated his jump pack and took to the sky to easily cover the distance in between him and the impostor who fired upon him. The other four were breaking off with the Inquisitor and the Astropath. He could hear the idling engines of a transport in the background, ultimately where they would take the two humans of their kill team. Ivan would save them if he could, but he knew he would not be able to survive the teeth of four bolters fired at him.

His duty was to the Deathwatch and the Ordo Xenos. Not going to save his Inquisitor from the jaws of impostors seemed like recanting his oath. He would seek Titus back at the Watch Fortress for necessary penitence. But now he had to kill someone who would dare sully the legacy of his father chapter. It was time that this impostor understood the fury of the Black Dragons.

The impostor drew his own archaic power sword design as Ivan slammed next to him. It was designed as a saber with a reptilian serrated mouth at the tip. The Marine mag-locked his feet to the ground, keeping him from being knocked off his feet. Ivan drew the sword back into a defensive stance while the other thrusted forward with his sword. Power sword rang against power sword as they dueled. Ivan fought with all of the merit of his martial skill, never once flinching in the fight. His body would cope later, but he realized his opponent, who not only was unscathed, was the superior duelist.

Where Ivan was a iron battering ram, his opponent was more comparable with a typhoon of razors. Ivan's blows were decently paced, but carried a lot of strength behind them. However, this foe made up in strength with sheer nimbleness, slicing and cutting away at Ivan's weak points in his Mark VI Corvus armor. Under his assault, Ivan would twiddle down until the slash across the neck would come. The two locked blades for and instant and Ivan peered down into the baleful red eyes of the helmet that sat upon the head of his foe "You are no Salamander. I can see through that helmet and I know Vulkan's blood doesn't run through your veins."

There was a chuckle and Ivan pushed himself back and wished he had brought a storm shield with him. "Quite correct Twenty-first spawn. Too bad you will not live to know whose blood runs through my veins when I am covered in yours." Ivan howled in rage and threw himself back at the opponent. Ht e blow he sent opened himself up to counter bunt it would take off the helmet of his foe. So he could gaze into the eyes of his killer.

The tactic worked, it took off the helmet of his enemy. But the sword of his opponent pierced his third lung causing him to breath out sharply in pain. He looked on the face and was revolted by what he saw. The evidence of chaos mutation was pretty damned obvious. Three tentacles came from the chin and swirling red and yellow eyes looked back into his own steel blue ones. Flesh melted on one half of the scalp while the other one was thick with deep violet braids. It was nothing like the coal black skin and hair of the Salamanders. "Heretic. May the Emperor spit on your soul when I send you off to him."

"I think not, Black Dragon." Pulling out his blade from the lung, the Chaos Space Marine slashed a deep fissure across the breast plate. Blood flowed freely from the wound and Ivan raised his sword, ready to strike but when he did so, he felt the sword go through his armor, flesh, bone blades and out the other end to pin him to a hab block wall. He grunted in pain and saw the end of a Great Crusade era bolt pistol aimed at his head.

Ivan raised his spare hand as he felt the blood seep through the wounds in his body. "Wait." His throat was thick with his own blood and it came out as a raspy voice. Though he sounded more like a plague marine rather the a Black Dragon.

The Chaos Marine paused as if taken back by a joke. "Wait? A lackey of the Deathwatch, and assault marine none of the less, finally sees the wrong end of a bolt gun and what does he say? Wait? I expected more of you. This is pathetic. Your last words are wait?"

Ivan smiled beneath his helmet. "No."

The bark of a bolt gun filled the air and the fallen Space Marine's head exploded like an overripe fruit. As the body slumped to the ground, Ivan looked to see his brother of the Storm Wardens lower his bolter he was aiming like a hunting rifle. "Wait for him to shoot you." Brand mag-locked the bolter to his chest and ran over to Ivan.

Pulling the power sword out of his arm, Brand began to medically diagnose Ivan. A deep lacerating wound across his chest and a ruptured third lung. The arm wound placed one of his bone blades out of commission until they could get back to the watch fortress. There was also a deep gash on the side of his chest, caused by the explosion of the debris. There was the sound of approaching footsteps with great urgency from behind them. Cain and Ha'sen came next to the Apothecary. Each one of them looked to the headless torso and Ha'sen was held back from lashing out at Ivan.

Through grunts Ivan emitted as Brand attended his ministrations, he explained what happened. Tearing away the armor revealed further chaos corruption, and it became more obvious that the bearer of the Nocturne Salamander emblem was anything but a member of his Chapter. "Ivan, what about the Inquisitor and/or the Astropath? Do you know what happened them?"

The assault marine looked to the devastator. "Besides of what I told you, I do not know. But we played right into who ever is behind all of this." Spraying some synthetic skin on his wounds, Brand placed the armor back on Ivan's chest and applied a decent amount of armor sealant to the compromised armor. "Well, we are here. What about the Elder?"

"**I am quite fine Brothers**." The ground shifted and a massive power fist came through a pile of rubble and revealed a scratched and dented Goremann, but he was still ready for the kill. "**It took the wrath of a Bloodthirster to bring be low**, **and these traitors have no such hope**."

Brand laughed. "Playing a little game of hide and seek, eh ancient one?" Goremann let loose a laugh and the five gathered closer together. No time for jests now, it was time to assess their damage. Brand began. "The plan has gone to folly. There was a trap set for us and we walked blindly into it. This whole 'alien rebellion' seems like nothing more then a ploy for us to lower our guard."

Cain grunted in affirmation. "Yes, and the cobalt blood xenos would not throw their lot in with the forces of Chaos. Someone knew our weakness and played to it. My cousins of the Angel of Blood were here, but many of them had time to extract. The Death Company and other officers were closer to the blast zone here. We should try to find them before this thing will slide off into the ocean."

Ivan sent another dose of pain suppressors through his system. "Regardless, I doubt that we are the only one affected by this ambush. The Imperial Fists and the Salamanders will almost certainly be in the same situation we are in."

There was a roar above them and they looked up to see a black painted Thunderhawk passing over them. Oily black smoke erupted from it's side as burning promethium clung to it's hull. Turning to their own vox link, it's communication rites known only by the Marines. "Pilate, come in." Ha'sen spoke into the vox link.

"Ha'sen! Praise the the Emperor!" Plates voice was ecstatic given the circumstances, and surprising from the usually reserved Ultramarine. The Thunderhawk turned around sharply and landed on the remains of the platform. The added weight caused the creaking to be much more audible. "Hurry, this platform cannot support us for much longer. Goremann, you first."

The massive dreadnought lumbered forward, the ground beneath them began to shift under the massive weight. Parts of the rubble began to move as the supports for the platform began to give away. When the Elder was aboard, the four remaining battle-brothers boarded. Using all of his skill, Pilate got the Thunderhawk off the platform before the legs gave way.

The Kill team could only watch on in helplessness as a platform that held a captain and others of the Blood Angels tumbled into the polar water. Parts of it landed in the boiling geysers and the other parts in the cold ocean. Cain was certain they would survive, it was a relative short fall and given the hue of the water, not necessarily too deep. Their suits would keep oxygen and pressure for a good long time.

Pilate quickly set the stabilizers for the Thunderhawk and unbuckled himself. "This whole damned planet has gone mad. Take a listen."

Pilate turned on the vox, and played some of the message clipshe picked up. "This is Sargent Telamius_ Schk_ under attack by Sal-" "To any Salamanders _Sksh_ -ands are firing on civ-." The messages kept on going, often being interrupted by the static of the jammer.

Pilate shut it off with a distasteful frown on his face. "Even we are unaffected by this madness. Not more then three minutes ago, unexpected missiles collided with the sides of this old war beast. Thankfully they were not krak missiles of plasma. But how would the rebellion on a back world water in the Quarantined Planets have access to such firepower?"

Goremann spoke in a deep, angry voice. "**Because, there is no such rebellion. It is merely used as a lure for us and three chapters to bring their best. And to no one's great surprise it worked just as good as it planned. To what end I have not the slightest clue. But if the archenemy is involved in this, it can only be ill to the Imperium of Mankind.**"

Ivan agreed with the ancient one. "My Chapter has fought the Traitor Marines many times over, and it was my service against them that gave me my secondment to the Long Vigil. Unless something is done soon, Atlantica will die in a matter of days."

"Agreed brother." Brand said as he opened a pocket holographic display. He activated it to the world and had it label the position of the different chapters. "Our situation is this. We need to clear up the confusion of the communication jammer and have the chapters get realigned. We also need to find out what happened to the Inquisitor and the Astropath. Then we need eliminate the threat that is present before us once and for all."

The kill team nodded and made their affirmations to the plan. Ha'sen was next to speak. "Brand, as I recall if in the case of Astrid's absence she gave explicit orders that you would be placed in a position of leadership."

"Aye, you were always the most level headed of us." Cain nodded and readied his shotgun. "Then where are we to head first?"

Brand thought for a moment and snapped his fingers. "Rafael is a tough man to kill, so he can take care of himself. We need to rejoin Felross at the Granite Spire and gather intelligence from him. Undoubtedly there are brothers scatter in and around the planet. They are in need of rescue and we shall bring it. We will also need some more numbers in the form of loyalists to give us an edge in the coming battle. Who ever did this has spent quite a considerable amount of time laying this trap for us."

Pilate grimaced, as if recalling a bad memory. "These events can lead me only to one conclusion." Turning their attention to him, Pilate explained his theory to the Kill Team. "Covert operations, ambushes, false flag wars, and even wearing the colors of our allies to confuse us. Of the Traitors, there is only one branch of their fraternity who use such tactics to perfection."

"**Throne of Terra and Dorn's blood...**" Goremann swore quietly. "**It is them.**"

* * *

Astrid woke up with jolt, cold air creeping all over her body as paranormal frost grew on her armor. She looked around to get a feel of her surroundings, and did not like what she saw. She was in the hold of something or inside a building of some sorts. Both of her arms were sore with pain, and one was still broken while the other one was warn raw from the rough cords that held her arms behind her.

Keeley was next to her, and a cloth ball was stuffed into her mouth to keep her silent from any of her ramblings. There were occasions in which Astrid wanted to to the exact same thing, but this was extremely foreboding.

She felt there was another presence in the room and her ears picked up the breathing before her eyes found the Marine. She spied dark blue and emerald power armor and a helmet-less figure. "You are awake, that is good for what you will be suffering for our leader."

Astrid moved her wrists only to feel a sharp pain from the wrists and arm. "What are you? Fallen from the Emperor's light and now serve the Xeno? Or are you one fallen to the eightfold path?"

The Marine walked forward and revealed his face to the light. A long green multi-headed hydra worked from his neck to cover his face. His eyes were black, blacker then the richest promethium pools. He grinned, bearing dagger like teeth. "I... I am Alpharius."

Another Marine came forward. "I am Alpharius."

Then another shortly after, all of them bearing the blue and green of a First Founding Legion. Legion XX, excommunicated for their side in the Horus Heresy. Primarchs were Alpharius and Omegon.

The Alpha Legion.

* * *

**I hope to get the next chapter sometime out next week. The week after I have training to go to so I will be unable to write then.**


	7. Traitor's Dawn: Part IV

**Well, here we are at another chapter. I may or may not get another one out before Sunday, but for most of the next week I will be away, so I hope this makes up for time lost. Enjoy and review.**

* * *

The Granite Spire, just saying the words seemed to display some form of majestic power. Fittingly, it was where the heads of governorship with the planet resided. True to the name, it was a massive hive created out of granite and steel. Even approaching in the mid day sun gave it a glimmer of holy radiance, as if almost it was as if a Primarch had overseen the construction personally. "Throne." Ha'sen whispered to himself as they approached closer to the destination.

Their mission was clear for the moment, regroup with Felross and his Imperial Fists to see what their current status was. From there they would act as necessary, and hopefully catch word of the loyalist Salamanders. Ivan was at the front of the Thunderhawk his battered jump pack purring to have it's user carry him into righteous battle. Brand was next, his claymore in one of his hands and his reductor at the ready in the other. Ha'sen and Cain were the next, each one dead silent as they readied their minds to be sharpened for the coming battle. Goremann was in the back, opening and slamming his mechanical fingers impatiently as he waited for the Thunderhawk to land.

"I will not be far from your location. So if you run into entrenched resistance, mark the coordinates and I will burn them up." Pilate told the kill team as he set them down for landing. The second it touched ground, the Marines disembarked and established a perimeter to be sure there were no Alpha Legion traps while they were vulnerable.

"Clear!" Cain bellowed. Goremann came off the Thunderhawk and the Ultramarine pilot took the Thunderhawk to the skies. Falling into a tactical formation, Cain and Ivan led the way, with Brand along with Ha'sen in the middle, while Goremann covered their flanks. "Any idea where we will find Felross and his Imperial Fists, Storm Warden?"

Brand scanned the hab block windows with his bolter before responding. "Just follow the sounds of battle, Cain. Sooner or later we will find them that way." Cain growled with approval and they moved at a decent pace given the circumstances. So far the civilians were either dead or hiding. Not a sound was being made besides their own heavy footsteps with rubble being crushed underfoot, as well as Goremann in general. As for the sounds of battle, there was none to be heard. Even with their enhanced hearing and suit optics, only their weapons were making the noise related to battle as they moved metal against metal.

"Something is wrong. Either we landed on the wrong spire or Felross is being unusually quiet with his extermination." Ivan made his opinions be known over the squad link, and the others rumbled with agreement. There would have been sounds of battle, even with their methodical ways of war, The Imperial Fists were never this silent.

"**I do not know what ails Commander Felross, but he is a student of the venerable Capitan Lysander. And all chapters know he was not one to be embracing silent warfare**." Goremann said over the vox link. It was still a booming and commanding voice, it was much more bearable.

Within ad instant, there was movement and it was not human footsteps. Brand issued commands for the kill team to find cover and take up firing positions.

Two tall and bloated Space Marines appeared around the corner. Though what greeted the kill team first was their smell. Not even a long rotted Grox carcasses smelled as bad as them. In the darkness of the hab blocks, the kill team could make out their emblem on their shoulder pads, they were three circles close together and that all but confirmed who they were. Plague marines.

"Feel the embrace of Papa Nurgel!" One of them said in a wet, throaty voice. Instantly the kill team returned fire, but given their retrofitted armor and increased endurance from the Plague Lord, such mass reactive bolts were near useless. The older one, more evident by the mutation and his own rotting entrails hanging from the armor stepped forward with a skull in hand. Inside that skull was undoubtedly corroding acid mixed with some of their most potent sicknesses. The skull was lobbed towards them and the kill team broke from cover to escape it's effects. Goremann took two steps backwards but was not fast enough to spare himself from the blast.

The explosion sent bone fragments coated with acid and viral compounds flying in all direction. Goremann to the brunt of the explosion and the explosion could not penetrate his armor, though several parts of his armor now had sickly discolored from the otherwise raven colors. The second Plague Marine let loose a volley of bolter shells in a 'pray and spray' manner. Eager to share the gifts of his dark god, he chose mass over accuracy.

Cain ducked behind some more rubble and readied his shot gun. Pulling the pump back, he eyed the silver shell and smirked. Raising up he took aim at the younger marine, who was much more wet with filth, and pulled the trigger. The hellfire round collided with the fallen Marine's armor and instantly the acid ate through his armor. While it would not cause the pain it would usually have to normal targets, it provided enough time as a distraction.

As if on cue, Ha'sen rose with his multi-melta in head. The whine gave Cain enough warning to roll away before the blast came. "Taste the fires of retribution, traitors!" The multi-melta blast caught the young one in the brunt of it and the other one caught a glancing hit form the blast. But not even the power of a multi-melta could bring the Marine now as his hideously deformed body, still on fire, drew forth a plague knife. He charged at the vulnerable Ha'sen, but with a roar Brand used his claymore to intercept the incoming attack.

Goremann pounded forward to the other Marine, who was readying another blight grenade. "**Never again, traitor. You will die here and now.**" Using his under-slung flamer, Goremann blasted a funnel of promethium lit as it collided into the body of the Traitor. Though the pain did not cause the Marine to stop, it did slow it down, buying Goremann enough time to get close to strike. Shooting out with his hand, Goremann wrapped his fingers around the fallen Astarte, and he tightened them. The corrosive acids ate at his mechanical digits, but Goremann continued to tighten until he could tighten no more.

Organs exploded from the body of the Plague marine, but all was a laugh that escaped his lips. "All who die will die for the Plague Lord!" Enough of his rantings, Goremann tossed him against a wall, the body part disintegrating, part snapping under the pressure. Just to be sure he was dead, Ivan fired a plasma pistol shot into the skull, exploding it in a pile of decay.

Brand countered the Plague Marine's knife again, and tried his best to keep focus on who he was fighting. There were a swarm of bugs that clouded his visor and gnawed at the unarmored joints. Swearing audibly , Brand readied his sword for a decapitating blow. The Plauge Marine saw this coming and dodged back. Though the blade cut open the organs that were dangling from the armor, there was little in slowing this beast of hell. The knife struck out at the Apothecary again, and it buried itself in the ceremite. It didn't rupture flesh, but soon the bugs would be upon him without pause. Brand took advantage of that and drove the blade through the twin hearts of the beast, hearing a throaty roar come out of the lips and he kicked the fallen off of it and into Goremann's waiting fist. "Enjoy the mercy of death, lunatic!"

The Plague Marine garbled a few words out of his pus filled mouth before he made his last words as the Crimson Fist closed his fist. "Death comes for all. May my flesh rot and decay! May it fester with the bugs of Nurgel! May your corpses be filled with the joyful embrace and give life anew. For the Fly Lord!"

The Crimson Fist brought it high above his head and swung it down with all of the force and momentum of a meteorite. Flesh and armor shattered and the body was casually tossed aside. Applying some repair cement before any of the biting insects could get inside, Brand made the kill team move forward. "The Alpha Legion seems to be gaining the favor of the Dark Gods. Usually the hounds of the Death Guard have access to the potential of Plague Marines. Either they are falling under Nurgel's pus filled embrace or they have allied themselves with his servants."

Ivan peered around a corner before he gave a nod to continue and spoke. "Alpha Legion are followers of Chaos Undevided, they embrace all of the dark deities while giving favor of a few of their preference. They are also renown of recruiting other fallen to their cause, but not to the extent of the Word Bearers."

"Aye. I would rather fight a Genestealer Broodmother unarmed rather then fight a Dark Apostle armed to the teeth. The minions they have under their control can prove quite a challenge alone, never mind the fact they are in a horde." Cain replied and a gruff laugh escaped the lips of the others. The Kill Team pressed ever onwards, searching for signs of battle. So far there appeared not only to be none, but it was still unusually quiet.

Eventually they heard something in the distance, like the cracking of a whip. Brand held his fist over his head and filtered out the noise of the kill team to listen for that sound again. There is was again, and then there was more of them in joining the chorus of battle. Lasguns, high powered las guns. "This way!" The Marines broke off into a tactical sprint with bolters at the ready and even Ha'sen opted for his bolt pistol to be ready to add instant support to the fight rather then spend time to brace his multi-melta. Goremann waddled behind them, trying to move at a fast pace but was almost comical in the appearance.

Leaping over fortification of ruined militia, or in Goremann's case of plowing right through them, they saw their battle. Five Imperial Fist veterans bearing the white helm of the First Company were taking cover behind a fallen statue of a Sister of Battle. In front of them, traitor heavy weapon emplacements rained their deadly volley upon them, while others fired high powered lasguns that could penetrate power armor. Even from their position, they could see the outline of Marines amongst the traitors bearing weapons from a far flung era of Imperial history.

Brand turned to his Kill Team. "Cain and Ivan, stay here and await orders for deployment. Goremann and Ha'sen, with me." Braking into a sprint, Brand did a running leap from their platform and rolled once he hit the ground. Ha'sen followed Goremann as they walked down the massive ramp that lead them to the position, muttering about Brand's taste for the heroics.

Brand reached the Imperial Fists, bullets and las beams flickered from his armor. When he reached the position, the one bearing the Sargent colors placed his bolter at Brand, and gripped the trigger, and looked as if he was about to fire. Brand held up his hands in a manner of defense and unlocked his helmet from the rest of his armor. He usually never removed his helmet, as it made him feel vulnerable, but a bolter round point blank was a more immediate threat then a stray las beam. His skin was tanned and shaven, and the only contrast to that was his deep emerald eyes and a lightning bolt tattoo that jagged across his face.

The Imperial fist lowered his bolter and Brand placed his helmet back on. "Sargent Godfrey, Imperial Fist sternguard veteran."

"Apothecary Brand of the Storm Wardens, seconded Deathwatch. Devestator Ha'sen of the Salamanders and Goremann the Elder o the Crimson Fists. I have two brothers in waiting ready to strike when commanded. We need to regroup with Felross, but your combat doctrine is to hold your ground so we will oblige. What do you need taken out first?"

Godfrey nodded and jerked his thumb to one of his brothers, who was clutching a bleeding leg. "Alexandros needs your attention Apothecary. We need to take out the heavy weapon emplacements before Goremann can proceed, and the Traitor Marines have assault cannons which will cut us down in a matter of in moments." Brand nodded and moved to Alexandros.

Switching back to his squad link, he gave his orders. "Ivan, take can and start eliminating those weapon encampments. Ha'sen, provide supporting fire from here. Goremann, stay at a safe distance until further notice, some of the traitors may be carrying heavy weapons that could bring you low. Understood?" The agreements came over the vox and he began his ministrations on Alexandros.

* * *

Astrid grimaced as she felt the pain flare across her body once again. She was alone with Keeley along with a few others that probably had the warp touch. How long had she been here, hours or days? She was unsure how long and the solitude was getting to her. All she could hear was the sound of Space Marine boots slamming down on the ground as they made ready for some sort of obscene ritual in which she would be a sacrifice in. Of that she was certain.

She wondered what had happened to the Kill Team and the other Space Marines. Surely they were fighting their way to find out what this was, and the end of a rebellion planet wide as of more importance then her own life. It was something she was told since childhood that she would one day die so that many others would live. It was uncomfortable to bear that burden, but it also brought hope that others would right their wrongs and make atones for the sins of their forefathers.

There were a pair of heavy footsteps to the door and with a hard pull, one of the Alpha Legion made his presence. He walked through the crowds and grabbed Astrid by the still functioning arm and pulled her away, causing a cry of pain as he did so from the jerking motion. Was it time to be killed, she wondered in her head. She knew it was a possibility, but powerful chaotic rituals took a lot of time to prepare.

She was lead face down and all she saw was the corrugated metal walkway. It was oddly silent given the circumstances, granted there was the insane laughter that was to be expected of the traitors, but there wasn't what she would traditionally feel from the heretics.

She was led to an open balcony, where three other Marines stood. Two of them were dressed in the traditional azure and emerald of the Alpha Legion while the other one was a bit more... psychedelic, maybe? His armor carried a variety of colors, from the unhealthy green of Nurgel to the blood red of the Blood God. Yet he did have the striking tattoo of the hydra on his face. The other two Marines turned to Astrid as she was let go while the discolored one paid little heed. "Master, a new one... they brought us a new one!" The one on her left bellowed while the other one pulled on her soar arm, causing her to wince in pain ad bit on the bottom of her lip to hold back a cry.

The third figure spun around and with a dark look, and made the two cease their actions. It was then Astrid looked on the face of her captor and was dreadfully mortified at what she saw. His skin was a twisted pale color, swirling blood irises gazed upon them. Yet the feature that disturbed her the most was the mouth, or lack there of. Due to chaotic mutation, his mouth was melted over, Yet he radiated authority and command.

Why was she summoned here? The question burned in the back of her mind like a wildfire. The commander of the insurgency gave a few curt hand gestures and the two others left him. They were alone and she noticed a massive chain axe that was mag locked to his side, but he made no intentions of drawing it to cut her down. Instead he just... stared at her, glaring into her eyes, as if she was nothing more then an open book to him.

Mustering up some courage, Astrid spoke. "Why have you summoned me? Is it my time to die?" She tried to sound more courageous then she was given the circumstances. The figure shook his head and moved over to her. He picked her up, not too gently and moved her to the over look. There she saw nothing short of a massive warband of Chaos Space Marines. She saw every thing from the bloodthirsty berserker to the unbearable Noise Marine.

She felt her blood freeze. The words of Capitan Brand flared across her memory. _Remember, should you fail here and now, the Crusade, the Reach, and the Aduptus Astarte as a whole may very well suffer greatly as a consequence. _This was no warband, this was a full fledged invasion of real-space. The Anomaly in the Reach was the main center of Warp scorn invasions of the fallen, and while it was a formidable threat, it was contained for the most part. If there was another uprising, some where else in the Reach, then it would have to drag away needed units elsewhere and the Crusade would need more men for the meat grinder. But given the numerous other crusades that were happening all around the Imperium, such would not be a quick task and the Reach would fall to its enemies well before the reinforcements would come.

Her mind raced, and she drew more conclusions then she though possible. Three Space Marine Captaians... Throne of Earth. If they were to somehow fall by his hand, there would be no way the gods of darkness would reject that kind of an offering, and he would ascend to the ranks of deamonhood. Then may the Emperor have the mercy to grant this sector a swift death, for the Archenemy would surely not.

"Commander." A new voice entered the fray and Astrid turned to look as saw a new Space marine. Unlike the others, his armor was of a lighter shade of blue with a serpent eating it's tail in a circle on his pauldron. "I am ready for the Inquisitor when you are." Astrid felt the world get shaky all around her and it began to compress to a single point and the ground rushed up to meet her as she suffered the psychic attack.

* * *

Ivan slammed a fresh plasma canister into his pistol and reactivated his vox link. "Pilate, we have Havoc Marines, at vector 8-6-2! Burn them up." At his response, a storm of autocannon rounds pulverized the defenses and shredded the human traitors who were armed with hellguns. He charged forward, seeing the enemy Havoc still standing. He raised his power sword above his head and brought it down. The Havoc brought his corrupted heavy bolter up to defend himself, and the sword slammed into the heavy weapon. The two Marines struggled against each other, one to defend himself and the other to kill.

Ivan smirked for a second and used his jump pack to give him a bit more force behind the blow and he set the traitor off balance. He swung the sword low, shoring the left leg right from under the knee. He then brought the sword down at an angle through the gorget, piercing the windpipe and both hearts. Kicking the dying traitor off the ledge, he spun around as he felt pain flare across his left thigh. He saw a traitor, his eyes red as murder, with a hellgun in his hand . The shout must have pierced his armor and skin. The Traitor tried to fire off another shot but Ivan was on top of him, snapping the neck with one swift movement.

Beside him, Cain fired scatter shot into a hab block window where several heretics were hiding. Ivan tore the hellgun pack off of the fallen traitor and tore open the stabilizing compartments. Proof that even the Imperial Guard could teach the Space Marines a trick or two, Ivan made a few modifications of rewiring the pack into a makeshift satchel charge. Cain growled as more came and he was out of shells. "Cain, move." Cain looked back and saw the pack. Nodding Ivan tossed the satchel charge into the building. With the equivalent of a melta bomb, the explosion leveled the room and sent rubble flying in all directions.

Using the dust as a form of smoke, they advanced to one of the last encampments. Readying his barrage plasma pistol, Ivan was the first in. Cain was right behind him and he drew his serrated combat knife as he mag-locked his combat assault shotgun to his chest. There was one more Marine in there, and his armor was covered in light crimson and brass. But as he turned around, Cain felt as if he was side blinded by and Ork.

The figure's face was uncorrupted, and the sign of Khorne was tattooed onto the side of his neck in green. But Cain knew who it was. "Dunn?"

Dunn laughed and raised his now defaced symbol of office. "What is the matter Flesh Tearer? Did you not sense your better?"

Ivan heard Ha'sen voice in his helmet. "Ivan, we need your support down here! What the warp is holding you up there!?" Ivan knew that this was Cain's fight. He pulled Cain's bolt pistol and handed Cain his power sword. Readying both of his pistols he moved out to assist his brothers down below. It was now only Cain and Dunn.

"What made you fall from the light of the Emperor? You are a Chaplain, Dunn! You of all people should know that the words of Chaos are nothing more then delusions and lies! How can you live with this on your conscious?"

Dunn laughed. "How many innocents have you slaughtered, Cain? How can you judge that?"

"Too many. Every time I kill a defenseless innocent a bit of my soul dies with them. I know I have to atone for the sins I have done. The only thing that keeps me alive is that." Cain responded as he readied his power sword.

"What sentiment! I couldn't imagine that a Flesh Tearer would be so emotional!"

"And I could never imagine a Chaplain of my parent Legion falling from the Emperor's light!" Cain threw himself at the Chaplain. Power weapon slammed against power weapon, the crackling ozone in the air was powerful. "Why have you done such a thing? Where have you been lead astray?"

"The Emperor is nothing more then a corpse on a chair!' Dunn responded and smacked the Flesh Tearer across the helmet, dislocating the jaw. "I have worshiped and killed for him for two hundred years, and all I heard was damning silence! Now, I kill those same book keepers and weaklings who commanded me. Now Khorne promises me the Galaxy!"

"You are a dope!" Cain slammed his sword into the brass embedded pauldron of the traitor, rupturing vital cords with the force of the blow. "I have seen where Chaos goes and you are nothing more then a pawn in their game. A pawn that will be sacrificed at any opportunity!"

The Arcanium slammed against the power sword and the two pushed against each other. "I will over up your skull as a gift for Knorne!"

Cain bellowed with rage as he pushed back with all of his fury, with all of his strength as he fought an erstwhile cousin. "And I will end our heresy, IN SANGUINEOUS' NAME!"


End file.
